#✘ // Ever and Always I'm On My Knees; Saint.

[astarab1aze]

❝ ’ffffff I were a priest , would you defile me in a church ? ’m I worth defiling ? ❞

"Ma cheri, I'd violate th' sanctity o' any holy land jus t' hear ya say m' name, suh you tell me, beautifuh. 'm thinkin' yer more 'an worth defilin' - make e'erybody in church sweat, blush, an' try out all th' things they watch me do t' ya a' home..." He grins to himself, smug and cheeky, tilting his head at Saint with a playful glint in his eye. He had many words to share, many thoughts he could voice right now, but he couldn't let Saint pull his leash too tightly, could he? He had to keep him on his toes, dabble in being chaste instead of begging like a puppy. "I'd unsanctify both you an' th' church, wha'chu mean 'am I worth defilin''? Damn righ'; Scout's honor, I'll defile ya righ' now-- Bel gason, ou vo tout bagay."

[m3lodyxo]

Salvation for the damned

Priest!Sanji x fem!Reader smut

Minors, do not interact!!!

Author's note: This is my first smut, go easy on me. I'm not used to actually posting what I write. Ever since I saw @hunnismokah 's fanart of Sanji as a priest I haven't had a WINK of sleep. She has unleashed something feral into the world.

Warning: if you're uncomfortable with themes of religion, I'll advise you to scroll away.

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"What is troubling you, my child?"

Sanji fancied himself a man of God. From a young age, he knew his role in life was to serve The All Mighty and help lost souls find the right path again.

He gave an Oath, and swore his body, mind and soul to The Lord, in promise to never stray from the path of light. And Sanji was a man of his word. Hence why he was sure you were sent by the Judge Of All, to test his strength and devotion.

Oh, you were the most angelic being he had ever laid eyes upon. Or at least so he thought, because, in truth, he saw you as a temptation crafted by The Devil specifically to torture him. And as much as he prayed and kneeled before God, begging for expiation, you wouldn't leave. As hard as he cried out to the heavens for a chance to atone, his screams were never heard.

You would always creep into his dreams, where he was most vulnerable, and force him into sin. You were a foul succubus, the daughter of Satan, and you have come to ensure his fall.

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"Father, I must atone for these terrible sins I've committed against the Holy One."

He hadn't expected you to turn up so late, looking deeply troubled near the Church's entrance. He let you in without a second thought, and as soon as you reached the altar, you dropped down to your knees, your hands clasped together, looking up at him in desperation.

His face softened and he smiled ever so slightly. He was glad you finally decided to turn yourself over to The Light. Sanji lifted his hand over your head and spoke with firmness in his voice.

"Speak now child, lay yourself bare before The Lord and share your troubles. Pray that He may forgive you."

He felt closest to God during confessions. It was as if The All Mighty spoke through him, accepting the wrongs of those before him into his heart and engulfing them in pure holy light.

"I've been plagued by impure thoughts, Father. The sin of Lust and Desire has claimed me and shackled me in its repulsive hold and I have become its slave."

Through the silence, a shaky breath was all that could be heard. Sanji felt his body shudder and pool in a cold sweat, a chill running down his spine. His knees were so weak he thought he might keel over any moment now, had he not been holding Saint Patrick's Cross so tightly in his other hand.

Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Sanji composed himself. Right now, he had to help this poor woman redeem herself before The Lord.

"Very good, my child. The first step to redemption is seeking out the forgiveness of God. Stand."

You did as you were told immediately, without asking a single question. Good. The expectant look in your eyes could melt the resolve of the most cold-hearted man, had you only wished to do so.

"For your heinous crimes, you shall face punishment, and you shall suffer, and you shall be freed. Now, are you ready to carry out God's task?"

Oh, that spark in your eyes. He could almost feel the devotion radiate off your body into zaps of energy. Almost. "I am ready, Father. I swear that I will do whatever it is The Lord asks of me."

Before you even finished speaking, he had already turned around and instructed you to follow him.

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Not before long, you found yourself in his private quarters. Just as you were about to question why, he called out to you, and you answered. Sanji was sat at the edge of his bed, looking up at you with a gentle smile adorning his face.

"Kneel, child."

You sank back to your knees, reaching out with your hands and hesitantly placing them atop his own, all while looking at him. He extended his hand to you and gently cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

Breath caught in your throat, you dared not utter a word, lest all kinds of sinful thoughts escape through, in-between your teeth.

"Do you know what you must do?" You could feel his thumb brush across your plush lips and pull the bottom one down.

"Yes, Father."

Sanji felt your hands drag up his thighs and settle on the zipper of his pants. He held back a groan at the feeling of your hands on him, inhaling sharply once you pulled his cock out and sat up on your knees to press a featherlight kiss to the tip.

You licked your lips and pressed one more kiss to it before wrapping them around the head, sucking lightly. He let out a gasp and shut his eyes, basking in the way your perfect lips wrapped so well around the head of his dick. Sanji felt you pull away and opened his eyes only to see you spit on his cock and wrap a hand around to stroke him. Your palm so soft and gentle, your pace slow and sensual, easing him into the feeling of your skin pressed to his. He was trying so hard not to let out soft moans of pleasure as you touched him, your skin igniting a spark in him that ate away at his soul deliciously so.

He could feel sin seep through his skin and into his heart, pulling him away from all that he deemed right, enticing him to beg for more. But he couldn't allow it, couldn't allow to lose himself to such carnal desires.

His resolve, however, faltered the second you took him into your mouth again. Enveloping his cock in its warmth and continuing to stroke whatever you failed to fit with your hand. Sanji let out a whine, and pressed his palm to the back of your head, keeping you in place. You had long since closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of him filling up your mouth, making you imagine what it would feel like for him to bury himself deep inside you and claim you as his.

Oh, you've dreamed of him for so long. You knew it was wrong to want a man of God, selfish, to wish he'd devote himself to you instead. You'd stay awake at night, desperately pumping your fingers to feel even the slightest relief, but your body knew what it wanted. And it wanted it badly.

Whatever you did, you couldn't satisfy your hunger for the man, and tonight, after hopelessly trying to chaise you high for hours and failing miserably, you decided enough was enough. You had to have him.

Snapping back into the present, you moved your tongue against him, hearing him let out yet another sinful cry, tears threatening to spill over his eyes. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing. Sanji tugged on your hair, and a moan escaped your throat, making him mewl in ecstasy.

He could feel a knot begin to form, like a balloon ready to burst, so he pushed you away, panting.

You looked up at him, confused. Had he not enjoyed himself? Did he perhaps change his mind? Maybe he finally realised how wretched you were.

"Come, sit." You wasted no time in hastily removing your bottoms and straddling his lap. Sanji placed both his hands on your hips, pressing gentle kisses to your neck and collarbone. A sigh left his lips when he felt your fingers swiftly undoing his ponytail and running your fingers through his long, golden locks of hair.

You aligned yourself up with his cock and sank, taking him in inch by delicious inch, filling yourself. Once you finally fit him all inside, a breath of relief left you.

He was still pressed closely to your chest, holding you tightly and squeezing your hips as if you'd disappear should he let go. And his grip became tighter once you started moving. Sanji felt like he'd lose his mind by how tight, wet and warm your walls were, pulsating and squeezing around him and greedily sucking him in.

"Father...please." Your voice was so weak as if the wind was knocked out of you, leaving you gasping and craving for more. He groaned and tried to meet your hips with his, thrusting up into your cunt in chase of the pleasure engulfing him whole.

"Fuck, you feel so good my sweet." He was quickly losing himself in you. Breathing in your scent and feeling it fill up his lungs, it was almost as if his mind was spiralling into insanity.

"Call me by my name...Let me hear you say it." You could barely register what he was asking of you, too drunk on the feeling of the man you've been craving for so long finally giving you what you've been wanting.

"Sanji, please don't stop." A shameless whine interrupted you. You couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore. All you could think about was him and how good he was making you feel.

He just kissed your forehead and began fucking into you harder, hitting that special spot deep inside you every time. He knew you were close by the way you tightened so much around him, it was evident.

"I know darling, 'm close too. Fuck- Been dreaming about this pussy for months. Been dreaming of filling it up to the brim with my cum. Is that what you want love? For me to paint your insides white?"

All you could do was throw your head back and moan like an animal in heat, desperately moving your hips to chase that high.

"Use your words, sweetness. Tell me you want it." He didn't falter in his movements, keeping up the brutal pace and abusing your cunt, set on hearing you.

You locked your eyes with his, barely able to keep them open. "Want your cum Sanji, please give it to me. Want you to fill me up." He groaned, hearing you barely get out the words, too focused on the pleasure he was giving you.

"Since you asked so nicely, you better take it all." You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you tipped over the edge, his words alone making you lose your mind. You moaned out his name again and again, like a prayer and he felt that knot finally snap.

With a final thrust of his hips, Sanji came, spilling deep inside you, painting your walls white. You felt your insides warm up as you milked him of every last drop until he was spent.

With both of you panting, he gripped your face with one hand to make you face him again and asked. "What do you say now?"

"Thank you, Father."

[calisources]

𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on this meme have been taking from different media and sources. They all touch on the topics of romance, difficult and forbidden love, mostly setting in the political schemes of war and peace and royal court. Change names, locations and nouns and you see fit. Some lines might have foul language.

Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but hurting ourselves to avoid it doesn’t make it better.

Could someone treat you badly and still love you? 

Even so, in the midst of this complicated love, there is a holy union.

Love is complicated. It’s sticky. It’s bliss and it’s a mix of emotions. It’s not easy.

I hated him now because I has loved him then.

 I'm not like you. I can't afford to be reckless.

When have I ever, since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you?

Are you so fucking self-absorbed as to think this is about you and whether or not I love you, rather than the fact I'm an heir to the fucking throne? 

You at least have the option to not choose a public life eventually, but I will live and die in these palaces and in this family.

She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.

Your wish is my command, my queen.

You can always leave my service.

Don’t you see, Diana? If I did that, I’d break not one but two hearts. For I know you love me, though you haven’t said it yet.

You do know me. I love you so much, it sometimes terrifies me.

You are going to regret that, Your Magical Regalness.

Just because I am  a prince doesn’t make my life a fairy tale.

So kiss the others for all I care, but don’t hold back with me.

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.

He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.

I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king.

 I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.

You, what are you? The brat of lucky parents who were related to a childless king.

Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.

There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.

You can't treat royalty like people with normal perverted desires.

We kings do develop a certain ability to recognize objects under our noses.

...alone is such a nebulous state when one is queen.

I respect you as my king, and I respect you as my father, but I do not respect you as a man.

You're the most important person I've ever met.  And I should have never met you at all.

Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.

I find that happiness can always be recollected in tranquillity, Ma’am.

It's almost impossible for those who have had an intimate relationship to return to a formal one.

I question if within you is any magic.

You’re my princess, right? You were always going to be my princess, no matter what you were born.

The king is a saint and cannot rule, and his son is a devil and should not.

For kings, the world is extremely simplified: All men are subjects.

A king deserves reverence when being addressed.

Yes, she had abused her title and station before, but for minor stuff, not to steal a warship.

You are a king worthy of their allegiance . . . with a queen full of fire and promise.

When God calls you into His Kingdom, your way of life will reflect royalty if you serve Him with loyalty.

My royal status is both a shield that protects me and a sword that impales my heart.

You know, for a pampered princess, you have a certain gift for violence.

I have to be seen to be believed.

Kings needn’t raise their voices to be heard.

That is your very own myth. The idea that how you are born or the name you are given dictate the sort of person you really are.

I know that names have power. That is why I cannot let her forget hers. 

You’ll have to face it, Princess. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon enough. And you can’t be this scared when the time comes.

A bad king revels in his importance. A good one hates his office. 

Crowns belong to those that serve.

She was their witch queen, and they adored her.

Beatrice is going to be queen someday.

Kings are only kings because one ancestor was quicker than another to place a crown on his own head.

Queen, do not allow a commoner to dethrone you. Own that throne. You are royalty.

A throne won in blood will soon be drenched in it.

My mother once told me that everything is fuelled by either money or sex, because both lead to power.

Even when she's dethroned by hardship, she still wears the sun as a crown.

She holds a nation’s fate within her shaking hands. She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.

My reign has been anything but traditional. Let’s not start now, shall we?

Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky.

Every girl thinks about growing up in a palace. Few ever ponder living in a cage.

Climb up the family tree of any of them high enough and you’ll find a commoner who dared to take a chance.

Am I forbidden to do what all may do?

My arrival saved the kingdom, while his only reiterated that his blood would fill the throne one day.

Slow down there, princess. How do you know what kind of first impression you gave me?

So none of the young men we encountered during our season gave you hot pants for them?

If stubborness were all that was needed to be a good queen, I'd rule the world.

I’d decided that I was going to stop dressing like a princess and start dressing like a queen.

Don’t touch me. Don’t tell me how beautiful my eyes are, how soft my hair is, how you love to hear my voice. Don’t. Don’t pretend you are falling in love with me. 

I know you are lying, and every word you say hurts even more. 

Before the wedding, and the bedding, when I will have to take you as my lord and husband?

I may not be a king or a queen, but I'll be damned if I'm not treated like royalty.

He is fragile, like a prince of ice, of glass.

It is natural that men are going to gather round me, hoping for a smile.

Men only treat women like princesses when they want to use them like prostitutes.

You can smile when your heart is breaking because you're a woman.

I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him.

Anyone can attract a man. The trick is to keep him.

To save my son, I would plot with the devil himself.

Only fools wait when their enemies are coming, to see if they may prove to be friends.

When a man wants a mystery, it is generally better to leave him mystified. Nobody loves a clever woman.

I wanted the heat and the sweat and the passion of a man that I could love and trust.

I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for your touch.

And you are the sort of mistress a man doesn't bother to marry. Sons or no sons.

[thecapybara526]

“The way I feel about you, is the how you feel about her.”

Avatar : the way of water

Pairing: Neteyam x Reader

One shot: Y/n has been in love with Neteyam her whole life. He was her mighty warrior. You’re both 19 and expected to pick a mate. Despite being right in front of him, Neteyam’s eyes have always been drawn to a different girl in the village.this is based of a song I heard today “her” by Sophia Scott. Please listen while you read.I’ll let you know when to start playing it.

Themes: sad, angst, unrequited love, jealously

You and Neteyam were flying your Ikrans, it was almost eclipse and you wanted to go on one last ride for the day.

“Come on Nete! We’re almost there!” You yell glancing over your shoulder.

There he was your mighty warrior flying right behind you.

“Slow down! Y/n! You’re going to crash” he laughed at you, with your adventurous spirit he didn’t understand why you were so close to him. Lo’ak would probably be a better fit to satisfy your need for adrenaline.

What Neteyam didn’t know is when you were close to him your adrenaline felt as if you had dived off a mountain. You had loved him all your life. You first met when you were kids.

...

You were climbing a tree and claimed it as yours. One day Lo’ak, Kiri and Spider had stumbled across the same tree. You were high up playing by yourself.

“Hey! That’s our tree get down!” Lo’ak yelled

Your head snapped down to the two Na’vi and a human? You had seen humans before but never this close. Your mother didn’t like you around them. You slowly started to make your way but not all the way just enough to talk without yelling.

“This is my tree! You go away!” You furrowed your brows, you knew he was Lo’ak the youngest son of the Olo’eyktan. But that didn’t mean you were going to give up your tree.

“Please? We really like this tree. We found it yesterday.” Kiri spoke not wanting to fight.

“Kiri! Shh! This has always been our tree.” Lo’ak whispered. You narrowed your eyes, you didn’t like liars.

“Well this has been my tree for 1 week now. So it is mine.” You stuck your tongue out. You sat down on a low branch. Swinging your legs, your tail flicking side to side, a little nervous.

Quickly Lo’ak jumped up and grabbed you by your tail. Making you fall backward off the tree, and you fell to the ground hard. You winced.

“Lo’ak!” you heard an unfamiliar voice, it wasn't one of the adults which was good.

You didn't turn to even look at the voice and you tackled Lo’ak. You both rolled around but you ended up on top pinning him down, you were older so just a little bit bigger than him.

“That was mean!” your eyes brimmed with tears. Lo’ak eyes widened, he didn't want to make you cry. He felt bad. Before he could say anything you were being picked up gently. You tried to turn but the strong arms around you kept you still.

“What is going on here?” your ears flattened back, a boy was holding you. You have never been held by a boy. A blush coated your cheeks.

“Lo’ak wanted this tree and she didn't want to move” Kiri was annoyed, she knew Neteyam was going to give them a speech. He was only 8 yet had the moral compass of a saint.

The strong arms put you down and turned you around to face them. It was the first time your heart ever stopped for Neteyam and it wasn't the last. He was beautiful.

“Are you okay? I'm Neteyam. Sorry about my brother.” He smiles at you and your knees went weak.

“Woah. Do you need to see Tsahik?” he helped you stand up again.

“N-no, I'm okay. Thank you.” you couldn't look into his eyes. He nodded and let you go. At that moment, you wanted to collapse so he would hold you again.

“Lo’ak, if you apologize I won’t tell mother and father.” He put his hands on his hips, while he addressed his brother with a serious tone. Kiri and Spider chuckled, Neteyam always so serious.

Your eyes widened. At that moment you fell in love for the first time. This Neteyam, he stood up for you, held you, and was very beautiful. Your 8-year-old heart decided that one day. He would be your mate.

“I’m sorry.” Lo’ak looked at you, “we can share the tree?” He offered as a peace offering.

A grin broke out on your face.

“Yes! Let's play. You too.” you reached for Neteyam’s hand and lead him to the tree. You weren't letting him go.

...

You felt Neteyam’s Ikran land next to yours. You sat down on the ledge of the mountain. You always loved high places. He saw down close next to you, thighs brushing together.

“We’re getting too old to sneak off Y/n.” Neteyam chuckled. You immediately frowned. You hated being reminded of your age. 19. You were both over due to pick a mate. Especially him.

He was the future Olo’eyktan, he should’ve picked his mate by now. You of course hadn’t picked because well, you wanted him. It wasn’t fair to mate with anyone else when your heart completely belonged to Neteyam.

“Ah, why the frown.” Neteyam bumped your shoulder. You forced a smile back on your face.

“Ah you know I hate the idea of growing up.” you shook your head.

“I know, I know. I'm sorry.” Neteyam didn't understand why it upset you so much. You were at the best part of your adulthood, both one of the people, warriors, and you could pick a mate. 

“I just don't want us to grow apart.” you ducked your head down, to hide your eyes from him. Sometimes you were scared he would see how you truly felt about him.

“Oh Y/n” he turned and hugged you.

You buried your head in his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him. You loved when he held you. It didn't often happen now that you were older. It was crazy to feel the difference; when you were younger, he was smaller and skinny. Now he was way taller and muscular. In the moments he did hold you, you wished you could stay like this forever.

“You will ways be my best friend.” You placed your forehead on his shoulder. Ouch. You hated it. Hated the idea of just being a friend. But you’d would rather be a best friend than lose him all together. When the time came and he chose a mate, you probably wouldn’t be able to share moments like this anymore.

“Thank you, Neteyam.” He pulled away from you and you missed his warmth.

“Can I ask you something?” He had a serious expression on his face.

You shifted uncomfortably. You tried to make your heart settle. Every time he got serious you wished it was him about to confess his love for you. You knew though. He was never going to.

“Yes, anything Neteyam.” you smiled

“Ah...” he looked away, blushing. You tilted your head at him. “I just figured since, y-you're a girl.”

“Yes. Yes, Neteyam, I am a girl.” you chuckled nervously. What was this about?

“How do you think a girl would want to be asked to be my mate?”

Your heart sunk to the deepest part of pandora’s forest. You swear you could hear the crack appearing on your heart.

“W-what?” your voice was soft. It couldn't be, he wasn't talking about-

“Neriaya.” you slowly looked away from him, “you know how I feel about her, and I think she may feel the same.”

You took a deep breath, tears emerged their way into your eyes and forced them back. You wouldn't cry in front of him. Neriaya. Of course. You knew already. How could you not? You watched everything Neteyam did. You didn't fail to notice his blush when Neriaya spoke to him, how he would stand a little straighter when she passed him, how he would stare.

He had always had his eye on her and you had your eye on him. You hoped that as you got older he would notice you. Maybe you could change his mind and start to fall in love with you instead . Looks like your time had run out.

“Neteyam, any girl would love to be your mate. Whatever you choose to do, she will love.” You stood up. You wouldn’t torture yourself like this. There was no way you were helping him plan this. You couldn’t.

“I was hopping maybe you could help me though?” You dared to look at him, hoping your mask wouldn’t falter. His eyes were hopeful and excited. No. You couldn’t do this.

“I’m not very romantic. Ask Kiri. Let’s go. It’s almost dark.” You jumped on your Ikran, waiting for him to mount his before you took off. You flew fast ahead of him, tears escaping, the wind cleaning them off your cheeks for you.

Neteyam was a bit confused. But he figured you were just worried about getting in trouble, this would’ve been your third strike with your mom. He laughed at the thought.

…

The next couple weeks, 2 and a half to be exact, not that you were counting. You distanced yourself from Neteyam. Now that he expressed his plans to ask Neriaya to be his mate, it was too painful. You didn't want to hear or even think about it. Being away from him was the only way. Yesterday you caught the two of them talking quietly after dinner. The way he looked at her made you crumble. You walked to your hut, thank Ewya your mom wasn't there. Because you collapsed to the floor and cried. You cried for the 8-year-old girl, who you promised that he would be your mate. You also cried for yourself. The 19-year-old girl who was in love with Neteyam.

Neteyam didn't understand why you had been so distant. He was kind of upset honestly. You were his best friend, he had confessed his intentions with Neriaya. Why weren't you excited for him and helping him? Honestly you avoiding him upset him to his core. He felt off the past week's without you by his side. There was even a moment where you pasted right by him. Without even a glance. He just shook his head. What was wrong?

He knew once he mated with Neriaya, he wasn't going to be able to spend much time with you. The thought of not seeing you every day hurt him, he hated how it made him feel. But he would have Neriaya. His parents always talked about her to him. How pretty she was, a good hunter, and how she could be a good Tsahik. To Neteyam, he knew if chose Neriaya, his parents would be proud and happy. He from then on he pictured Neriaya as his mate.

She was everything his parents said she was. Neteyam could tell Neriaya would be shy when he talked to her. She was nice and easy to talk to, Neteyam wasn’t necessarily eager to mate, he brushed it off when he turned 18 but when he heard his parents talking about the fact that he hadn't chosen a mate. He knew he has no choice but to do it now.

Today, he had finally had enough of your ignoring game. He started looking everywhere for you and he eventually found you with Kiri doing her hair.

“Hello.” Kiri smiled at his greeting her brother. Neteyam watched you carefully as you looked up from Kiri’s hair to him. You had a look on your face he couldn't decipher it, it made he angry. He knew you better than everyone else. What was wrong?

When you looked at him it was a mix of emotions. Happy to see his face, sad to know you were losing him, and jealous that someone else gets the privileget love him.

“Neteyam,” you spoke quickly and went back to the braids. Kiri raised an eyebrow and knew this wasn’t going to end well. Y/n didn’t have to say but Kiri knew you were upset about Neteyam’s plans. Kiri didn’t understand how you didn’t tell Neteyam you loved him or how Neteyam didn’t notice.

“Y/n is doing my hair.” she quickly interject after the 15 seconds of silence.

“Uh y-yeah. Maybe you could do mine after?” his eyes shot to the floor.

Kiro rolled her eyes. Oh hell no. She thought breaks Y/n’s heart and can't even look her in the eye?

“She just started. It will take forever. Maybe ask Neriaya?” Kiri’s eyes were challenging. She wanted to push her brother. What would he do?

You sat there silently, not wanting to comment. Kiri even suggesting Neriaya doing Neteyam’s hair hurt. You used to do his hair.

“I can wait.” He searched your eyes, willing you to look at him and you did. Those orange eyes melting you.

“Yea.” you nodded, you would usually be happier but instead you held your composer. This didn't change anything between the two of.

It took you 30 minutes to do Kiri’s hair. You and Kiri just talked while Neteyam sat with his eyes closed against the wall. When you turned to look at him he was asleep.

“Well, so much for waiting” Kiri laughed before walking out of the hut.

You watched her retreating form and turned back to Neteyam. You knelt down beside him and looked at him. He looks so calm, his chest rising and falling. You brushed away the braid that fell on his face. You chuckled, he really did need his hair done. You sighed and got up.

You felt a hand snap onto your wrist. You jumped and looked down. Neteyam was looking at you through sleepy eyes.

“Ah, I'm sorry. I dozed off but I'm ready.” he's sat up quickly and started to undo the beads.

You knelt down slowly. His back to you.

“Okay, lay back when you're ready.” you twirled your own braid around your finger. (Play song)

You noticed movement and Neteyamms strong back was coming down toward you. His head hit your thighs and his eyes peered up at you. He was so handsome. You licked your lips nervously and started to get to work.

“Y/n..” Neteyam started but stopped. You didn't acknowledge it. Didn't ask for him to repeat himself. You didn't want to talk. You wanted to enjoy the feeling of him being yours. Or pretending he's yours.

Neteyam closed him eyes and took a deep breath. Your fingers felt great, but he couldn't shake the weight on his chest. He hated this tension. Usually when you did his hair it was non stop laughing, you slapping him to stay still. He missed it. He missed you. He opened his mouth again.

“Kiri talked my ear off, I'll let you know when I'm done.” you said quietly not giving him a chance to speak.

He gave you a tight smile and closed his eyes again.

...

“Done.” you finally spoke after almost an hour. His hair was longer than Kiri’s. He didn't respond. He's asleep again. You shook his shoulder gently.

“Neteyam?”

His eyes fluttered open and a small smile started to form. He looked at you, you looked so pretty.

“Hi.” he then remembered he was in your lap and that you did his hair. He sat up quickly and stood up. You looked up at him with furrowed brows. Okay...

He blushed. Why did he do that? You had braided his hair thousands of times. He never felt nervous. It was probably the tension between the two of you. He was fixing that today.

“Y/n. I want to talk.” he sighed.

“Neteyam-” you huffed ready to shut him down.

“Not here. Come on” he grabbed your hand and led you towards the ikran. You whipped your hand away.

“Neteyam!” you whisper yelled. It was late in the afternoon. Na’vi roaming everywhere getting ready for dinner. What if Neriaya saw them holding hands?

“What? Come on.” Neteyam kept moving. You felt people looking at you, so you followed him. Not wanting to cause a scene.

...

You landed your ikran next to Neteyam’s, you were fuming. How dare he. How dare you push this conversation on you.

“What is wrong with you?!” you yelled at him as soon as your feet hit the ground marching toward him.

“Me? What's wrong with you!” he yelled back. He was frustrated. This wasn't him.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell.” he immediately felt bad. He never yelled at you.

“I didn't want to talk right now! Why are you doing this? You have other things to worry about right now.” your voice softened at every sentence. No longer mad. Just sad and frustrated. You were tired of hurting.

He walked forward and grabbed your hands. Bending his neck down a little to look you in the eyes, his hair brushing your wrists.

“Y/n right now I need you more than ever. You're my best friend. I need your support right now.”

A confused expression passed along your face that turned into exhaustion, eyebrows bunching together.

“Neteyam. I-I’m sorry but I can't be there for you with this.” you tried to yank your hands away but his grip held you.

He shook his head side to side, mouth dropping open a little.

“Y/n, everything was fine between us. What happened? I feel like you're keeping your distance, like you don't want to be around me. You're my best friend.” His voice dropped low, he swallowed hard getting emotional.

You couldn't take it anymore. You couldn't hear the word best friend again. Your knees buckled. Neteyam caught you, lowering to his knees as well. His eyes widened.

“Neteyam please.” your voice cracked, and your head was low. Shielding your face from him.

“Please don't ask this of me. You cannot ask for this.” the weight of carrying all these feelings was finally catching up to you, it was too much. It was just spilling all out.

He pulled you to his chest when you started crying but you used your arms to create distance. Your hands pushing against his shoulders.

“Y/n talk to me.” you couldn't help him? You couldn't be there for him with his mate?

“I can't do this anymore Nete.” his heart broke hearing his nick name. He missed it.

“I can't help you, or be around you or even go to the ceremony.” tears spilled over your cheeks. He tried to force your head up but you shook him off and continued. He was lost.

“I- I wish that I could've told you how I felt and if only you knew how it breaks my heart, it breaks my heart to know you love Neriaya.” you looked up at him finally. His eyes were cloudy with tears as well. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did this mean you..?

“Y/n are you saying?” his voice was shaky. He felt his entire world flip upside down. “Y/n-”

You cut him off.

“So no. No Neteyam. I cannot be there for you. Because the way that I feel about you. Is how you feel about her.” you wiped tears from your face and stood up.

He stood up with you, his hands still attached to your forearms.

“I -Y/n... This is.. I don't-” He stuttered. He was so thrown off. You? You loved him?

“You don't have to say anything. You are going to be mated to Neriaya. That's okay. I want you to be happy. But I won't do it Neteyam. I won't break what is left of my heart for you.” you were numb. You felt as if you had poured all the emotion you had left out to him.

“Why didn't you ever..why didn't you tell me?” Neteyam couldn't stop staring at you. He always thought you were beautiful but did he see you as his mate? Did he have feelings for you? The same way he felt about Neriaya? Did he even love Neriaya?

Because how he felt in this moment. This is what he would describe heartbreak to be. Your tear-stained face. Puffy eyes. The weight of your words. He was losing you. He was losing his best friend. He was losing you forever.

“Neteyam, you've always looked at Neriaya. Always drawn to her. I knew and I thought being your best friend would be enough but it's not.” your tone was flat. It scared him, some emotion was better than none. He hated this. He hated that he made you feel this way.

“Y/n, please let's talk about this.” he was desperate. He didn't know if he truly had feelings for you but he knew he didn't want to lose you. He wanted you as close as possible at the moment. He didn't want you to walk away. Not from him.

He didn't think. He just pulled you to his arms.

You went from zero emotion to one hundred emotions to then only one. Anger.

“Enough!” you yelled. “Enough! Enough!” you pounded on his chest forcing him to let you go.

“Neteyam enough. No more. There is no saving this. There is no fixing this. There is no us!“

He let you go and you instantly put distance between the two of you stepping back.

“Y/n please. Yes, we can. We can fix this.” He held his arms out as he talked.

“Do you have feelings for me?” your voice was barely above a whisper. But somehow he heard you. He just stared at you.

“Well?” you raised an eyebrow. You really like to torture yourself.

“I-I don't know.” his arms dropped to his sides.

“Neteyam.” you took a step towards him. A small one but enough for you to be able to see those beautiful eyes.

“I see you. I love you. And because of that I can't do the best friend thing with you. Enough. Please” and with that, you turned around and jumped on your ikran. Just like that day a couple of weeks ago. You wiped the tears from your eyes except this time It was a lot more painful.

Neteyam collapsed to his knees. Head in his hands. He had lost you. He started to cry. How was he going to fix this? He knew he needed you. He needed you to survive. But did he have feelings for you?

....

Sorry! Don’t hate me! I just was so inspired by this song. Should I make a part two? I'm also working on 2 other requests so to the people who requested them, they are in the works don't worry.

PART 2 is finally up!

[blitzor0de0]

I wouldn't mind reader more about Saint Peter and Redeemed!Reader adventures in heaven.

Maybe you could write about their first date? First kiss?

Maybe Redeemed!Reader has a nightmare about their 2nd death and Saint Peter comforts them?

Maybe some jealous Saint Peter? Someone tries to flirt with Redeemed!Reader and Saint Peter get a little possessive over them? Like wraps one of his wings around them, protecting them?

Not sure you'd be up for making smut for this pairing, but that would be nice as well. :)

hihi ! I decided to go for the nightmare one since I love torturing reader 🤭🤭

I told myself this one was gonna be rlly short because my brain was just lacking juices but here we are again over 1k words and yet ?? I still rushed half of it between my overwatch deaths and games 😭

cw: reader death mention, nightmares and by extension ptsd, tooth rotting fluff lowkey

word count: 1.2k

part 1 part 2 part 4

Delicate (Saint Peter x Redeemed!Reader)

Chills ran up your spine as the scene replayed itself before you.

All you could feel was the stab of the trident magnified by a million. It was torturous, and yet the scene had replayed every night since your arrival in Heaven. You couldn't escape it, causing you to spend many sleepless nights, drinking coffees, going on walks. Anything to resist falling asleep, afraid of your death haunting you.

Said sleepless nights were taking a toll on you, everywhere you went, you'd see the executioner in the corner of your eye, causing your heart to drop.

You would doze off in the middle of dates with Peter, meetings with Emily, at your job. Everywhere you went were reminders of that dreadful day.

Sure, you could talk to Sir Pentious about it, but the guilt of making him remember his own death ate you alive, but the passing glances the two of you would share could say a million words, the bags under his eyes just as visible as yours.

It didn't take long for Peter to notice something was up with you, especially with how you froze up when Lute passed by the two of you in the Plaza, scowl evident on her face.

At first, he just suspected it to be you just being afraid of her due to the battle, but witnessing your paranoia get the better of you just made him feel stupid.

Offering you a small "Are you okay?" he frowned, he always had faith in you and believed in you, to see his love this dishevelled, it freaked him out. You were always a stronger person than he would ever be, in all means of the word.

"I'm fine..." Is all you could utter, it was only a phase, something you would get over, right? You could overcome it on your own, that's what you believed.

Peter could only nod and say "If you do need me, at any time, you know where to find me."

Tonight was one of those nights again, in your exhaustion, the fluffy pillows, the oversized duvet, the memory foam mattress, it enticed you into its warm and loving arms, enveloping you as you drifted off to sleep for the first time in days.

The nightmare, your past reality played in your mind once again. The sharp stab of the strident, the smug smirk upon the executioner's face.

Everything was perfectly recalled.

With a sob, you awoke yourself, sweating and shaking as all you could do was hold yourself, sitting up and pulling your knees up to your chest.

Glancing towards your digital clock upon your side desk, your first step of grounding yourself was checking the time which resulted in an unsurprising 2:38am.

Sniffling, you picked up your phone, quickly dialling Peter's phone number.

It took a few rings for him to pick up, and when he uttered out a groggy "Hello?" It wasn't hard to tell that you had just woken him from blissful slumber. The thought only made your guilt bubble up inside you, internally debating whether or not to hang up then and there to let him be. This was a pathetic reason to call someone, anyways.

But you couldn't bring yourself to, sniffling down the microphone as you fought against your will to speak. It was as if your words were lodged in your throat, as if speaking would kill you once again.

“...Peter” You weakly whispered.

Well that certainly woke him up, his tone of voice switching from gruelling grogginess to concern.

“Hey? Hey! Are you alright?? Are you crying? Oh my goodness, do you want me to come over, is that alright?” Quite the rambler he was, but at least his intentions were always pure at heart.

“Please?”

“I'll be right there, unlock the door for me, alright?”

And with that he hung up, hurriedly making his way over to your house.

Deciding your room was far too dangerous to stay in right now, you opted to listen to Peter, heading down to the door and unlocking it before situating yourself on the sofa, blanket wrapped around you.

Too lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t noticed your friend? boyfriend? — You didn't know the two of you hadn't made it official yet — enter the house, crouching down in front of you. It was only when he placed one of his hands upon yours did you notice him.

You were a mess, it was hard to miss, hair stuck to your forehead, tangled and knotted, dried tear tracks down your cheek, and yet Peter looked at you with all the fondness in the world, as if you were the most gorgeous person to grace the three realms.

“You're okay now,” His voice instantly soothed you to your core, being around Peter always seemed to do that. “I'll make some tea,” He stood, but before he could turn on his heel,

"Don't leave.." You whispered, catching his hand with your own as you glanced up at him with glossy eyes.

With his gaze, ever so gentle, he smiled down at you, taking your other hand, pulling you up into a hug.

It was warm, full of emotions. Peter's adoration for you, and you for him, but the sadness of your nightmare, of your trauma lingered, evident by your shaking from as tears started to slip once more.

Peter rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe you. He didn't dare let you go, only allowing you to break the hug first, Lord knows that you needed it, who knows how long it had been since you got a hug in the first place.

You didn't know how long the hug lasted, and didn't care to know either, the hug felt like home, like you were always meant to be there in Peter's arms. Eventually, you did pull away, “Thank you.”

“At a time like this, there's no reason to thank me whatsoever, c'mon you want some tea?” You shook your head in response, Peter's presence was enough, and besides you felt the sweet embrace of sleep calling your name.

With a yawn, you spoke at ease for the first time that night, “Come to bed with me?” Causing Peter to smile, “Of course.”

You could feel yourself longing for his touch still, deciding to link your pinkie finger with his, craving any sort of touch, any proof that Peter was in fact here with you.

You led him up to your bedroom, a little nervous, you'd yet to fully decorate your room to your desires, so the walls were looking a little bare and there were some clothes scattered across the floor, but Peter didn't mind at all, it only humanised you in his eyes.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Of course I do, you've helped me so much and just… you bring me a lot of comfort Peter.. Besides, you can scare away the nightmares if they return.” A small childlike jest, but knowing Peter, he would kick that nightmare’s ass if he could.

“Oh,” you continued, not before taking a big yawn “I'll tell you about it all in the morning, just hold me for tonight please.” You sat yourself on your bed, pulling Peter besides you with what sleepy strength you could muster.

It didn't take long to grow comfortable, laying yourself between Peter's arms. Sleep quickly took over your senses, but not before you could hear the angel utter out a quiet

“I love you.”

[yanderestarangel]

Ok MATE SO FORGIVE ME UNHINGEDNESS BUT I HAVE A REQUEST FOR A SMUT WITH KANO AND YES FTM READER

My request is like the reader is Kano's sugar baby and the reader slowly falls in love with him. You can do anything with the kinks i'm just in love with that aussie man, he's so ughhh, like make it rough but the things he says are gentle if you get what i'm saying

"daddy's pretty boy" ⸺ sugar daddy!kano x ftm reader

TW: daddykink, afab anatomy, semi public sex, smut, v!sex, sugar daddy concept, age gap, praise, blowjob, degradation, spanking, kano is extremely vulgar (as he is kanonically)

He gave you everything you asked for or wanted to ask for in the not so distant future, cars, mansions, dresses, heels, suits - everything you could imagine being expensive in a capitalized and consumerist world... He gave it to you.

You met Kano at a difficult stage in your life, he gave you a job as one of his lackeys helping with futile things at 'black dragons', but deep down he knew that you weren't born for this but rather to be pampered and taken care of.

Kano was not a saint, he never was, since he entered a position of power he always liked relationships without commitments, just sex and some kind of company on lonely nights, someone who would listen to his daydreams about music and weapons - even if it was a false interest, earned by dollar bills deposited in a fragile check and with you, in the beginning, it was no different.

He made you a proposal, being his sugar baby, and stopping working hard, was a better proposal than carrying heavy boxes of weapons all day, leading you to quickly accept.

The sex was good, the gifts were good, his company - however contradictory it was - was also good, you fucked at any opportunity, but he also never ran away from just a good platonic conversation, no kisses, no lustful touches, just hours on end of the two of you sitting, with you on his lap looking at the stars.

You promised yourself that you wouldn't fall in love, you wouldn't get attached to him, he was a bad and crazy man, someone you don't have a serious relationship with.

But, the way he made you feel, the warm touches, the warm smiles, the compliments, especially when he spanked your ass and called you "pretty boy" but not just a pretty boy... You were his pretty boy, it was impossible not to get attached to his persona, damn Kano was irresistible in a dangerous and... Delicious way.

It was another normal day, shopping for clothes with Kano looking you up and down, drinking his beer in the private changing room he had reserved just for you that day. You looked at yourself in the mirror, satisfied with the result, while asking for his opinion. Kano put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to him, kissing the top of your head.

"-My little pretty boy, you're everything I want in a companion. You make my heart race and my dick hard as fuck just by looking at you." He said, drinking more beer while staring at your reflection. "-You look like a slutty angel." He continued, running his fingers over your chest, making you shiver with excitement "-I bet you'd be an amazing slut if you ever decided to become one." Kano grinned wickedly.

"-Do you want me to show you how good you can be baby boy doll? Do you trust daddy enough to let him teach you all about being a dirty little slut?" He spoke hoarsely, the breath of expensive beer and cigars entered your nose, while the ice cream from his bionic heart brushed against your skin.

Kano pressed his huge erection into your body, making you moan and ask if someone would catch you two there, fucking vulgarly. "-Relax boy.... I've got you covered. No one is going to see us here, not with the kind of money I have." He unzipping his pants and letting his hard cock spring out, he pushed you to your knees with a loud thump, as he teasingly rubbed his hot, thick cock across your cheek, soon watching you grab his member hard, as if it were your last fucking meal.

"-You're such a good little slut. Suck daddy's cock for me, make it wet and slippery." He running his fingers through your hair. "-Fuck boy, you really are my pretty boy." As you sucked him off, Kano grabbed your ass cheeks, spreading them apart and exposing your tight pussy to the mirror.

"-I can see us in the mirror, you're such a pretty boy, taking my huge cock deep into your throat." He spanking your ass as he fucked your mouth, without giving you time to react, just moaning against his hard cock. Kano soon pushing two fingers deep into your pussy, making you moan loudly as he fucked you with his fingers "-You'd be an amazing cock sucker. You have no idea how much I enjoy watching you worship my dick like this."

"-Oh shit, I knew you were good, but damn boy, you're amazing." Kano grinned wickedly, pulling his fingers out of your cunt - He turned you around so you were looking at his face, staring at the redness of the bionic eye he had. Without warning, Kano pushed his dick into your wet pussy, making you cry out in pleasure and pain. "-Good boy, daddy likes that..."

His hips met yours in sounds of flesh wet with lustful juices, his dick was already completely wet with your saliva and pre-semen, while you stared at his face with pleasure. With each rough but loving rhythm, you noticed that he was becoming softer, deciding to gain courage and talk about your feelings - which went beyond sex and money, beyond sugar babies and sugar daddy - between moans, you told him everything, closing your eyes. eyes and clinging to Kano's muscles, while he grunted with each thrust.

"-I knew it baby...You're in love with me. And I'm in love with you too, my little pretty boy." He moaned, thrusting his cock deeper into your pussy. "-We make the perfect team, don't we? I want you to know that you'll always have a place with me... Fuuck- You're more than just a pretty boy with a hot body. You're my little companion and I care for you deeply."

The thought of cumming for Kano was too much for you to handle, and you soon orgasmed, screaming loudly as waves of pleasure washed over you. You milked his cock, as you squirted, he held you easily, as he continued to prolong your pleasure and seek out his peak.

"-No matter what happens, I'll be here for you, my prince."

With those words, Kano came inside of you, filling your pussy with his hot cum. As he pulled out of you, you felt a sense of warmth and love that you had never experienced before. He placed a kiss on your cheek "-You're more beautiful this way, you know? Daddy Kano's pretty boy, forever and ever."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[takami-takami]

TW: Trauma implied, trauma reaction. hurt/comfort.

Keigo has the patience of a saint, and you try to remind yourself of that fact as you hiccup yet another hitched breath into the cotton of his pillowcase. You sit up, knees bunched to your chest. How many times have you done this, you chastise yourself?

How many times have you winced away from his familiar gaze? No one you've ever known has had golden eyes, you remind yourself. No one else you've known has his bone structure, has the same voicebox to produce that smooth and, as you thank god for, unique voice of his. You remind yourself over and over; but sometimes when he opens himself up to you, you flinch back like he's the walking skeleton of a person buried deep within your muscle memory.

You know he would never hurt you. He's not them, he's not fucking them.

But when love has always looked like a threat, has always tasted of foul and bitter taboo, it's difficult not to see him with that very same mask over his gentle features.

The way he blinks at you, his eyes practically trembling with the weight of his empathy; it doesn't assuage your guilt one bit. His hand lifts for a second, aching to soothe you, before ultimately dropping back down and gripping the sheets.

"I'm sorry," you blubber.

"Dove, don't be. It's okay," he says like the whisper of a lullaby. "It's okay."

He watches you, tilting his head and wearing that damn wobbly smile of his.

"No, it's not. None of this is," you explain, a familiar indignation stemming from instincts of self-preservation welling up in your throat. A single hand waves in frustration as you stare at some corner of the room.

"You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be looked at like you're a monster just because I can't get a grip on my–"

"On your trauma," he finishes, before you have the chance to demean your experiences. Times like these, you're eternally grateful for his tendency to speak the unspoken.

"Baby, what you're feeling is natural. Of course you'd be wary. I'm not upset. I'm not upset," he assures you. "Look at me?"

You meet his eyes instantly. He softens further, if that were possible.

"We'll take this at your own pace. There's no need to rush." He notices the way you pull at the cotton with anxiety, and a feather makes its way to your hand as an offering. You gratefully accept it, pinching at the soft bristles to ground yourself.

"Can you hold me?" You look up at him through your lashes as you ask, and Keigo doesn't bother to hide his sigh of relief. His wings have been twitching at the sight of you in need, and the itch finally stops as he nods and you crawl into his lap. He grips you softly, like a teddy bear, and silently thanks you for allowing him to take care of you with his very own love language.

"Thank you, Kei," you whisper.

"Always, angel. Always."

[krizaland]

All I want for Christmas is you (Macaque x Reader)

So I heard this song and this short was born!

A furious blizzard howled outside Macaque’s dojo.

The wind made he dojo creak and crack with every blow.

Macaque simply let out a sigh as he glared out the window.

All he could see was snow violently pounding against the window.

Nevertheless his mind wandered to think of you.

Your warm smile, your lovely eyes, even your adorable laugh was enough to fill Macaque with butterflies.

All he wanted was to have you by his side; to listen to your heartbeat as you slept in his arms.

He wanted to taste your lips and drown in your scent.

He wanted you all to himself.

And yet… Life was always cruel to him.

Everyone he’s ever cared about left him to die.

The last thing he needed was you leaving him over his dumb feelings.

Thus, Macaque decided to put his heart in the fridge and keep his feelings secret.

But that didn’t stop him from yearning for you.

Oh no. If anything, the longer he kept his feelings bottled up, the more he craved you.

Your love, your attention, your everything.

To make matters worse, Macaque had noticed you hanging out with someone new today.

The mere thought of you being with anyone other than him made him want to rip out his own heart.

“Y/N…Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Macaque grunted as he dramatically turned away from the window.

“I don't want a lot for Christmas, There is just one thing I need…” Macaque folded his hands behind his back as he sauntered away from the window.

“I don't care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree…” Macaque ominously walked towards his weapons rack.

“I just want you for my own-”-Macaque gently picked up a framed picture of you-“-More than you could ever know…”

“Make my wish come true…All I want for Christmas is…”

Macaque’s grip on the frame tightened.

“You!”

BAM!

Macaque punched the wall, causing the dojo to rattle a bit.

“Oh baby!”

Macaque slowly drug his hand down the wall.

“I won't ask for much this Christmas.

I won't even wish for snow!” Macaque stormed onward, dramatically flipping his cape behind him and throwing your photo to the floor .

“I'm just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe!” A pained chuckle escaped his throat.

“I won't make a list and send it to the North Pole for Saint Nick!” Macaque looked through the various weapons hanging from the rack.

“I won't even stay awake to hear those magic reindeer click!”

CLANG!

Macaque angrily pushed over his weapons rack.

“I just want you here tonight…Holding on to me so tight…” Macaque fell to his knees and slammed his hands down.

“What more can I do-” -A few tears trickled down his cheeks- “-All I want for Christmas is you…”

“None of the lights are shining brightly anywhere…”

Macaque looked down at your photo.

“And the sound of children's crying fills the air…” His hands shook as he carefully picked it up.

“And no one is singing-” Macaque’s voice cracked- “-I don’t hear sleigh bells ringing…”

“Santa, won't you bring me the one I really need?!” Macaque rose to his feet, “Won't you please bring my baby to me?!

“I don't want a lot for Christmas! This is all I'm asking for-”- Macaque held up your photo- “-I just wanna see my baby standing right outside my door!”

“I just want you for my own!” Macaque shook your photo, “More than you could ever know!”

“Make my wish come true! All I want for Christmas is…”

Macaque threw back his head and cried out,

“YOU!!”

Macaque’s voice echoed throughout the dojo.

“All I want for Christmas is you…”

[samstclair]

Kendall Roy’s Princess

Kendall Roy X Reader

Anonymous Request -

"Sam Saint Clair! Yes! Hello! Listen, I'll be quick and easy about this - Reader x Kendall Roy. That's it. Alright? Maybe she works at Waystar? Who knows. Create a lil power dynamic with it? Rags to riches? I don't know you do you like always! I know it's not completely morally right given it's the workplace but since when is Succession focused on morals?!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of all the possible careers in the world, with literally every single possible line of work, there was one you never thought you'd step into - and that one was corporate...

Corporate.

Like ew honestly. The word might as well carry radiation, because every time you heard it in passing it was as if you were a victim in the Chernobyl disaster and old radioactive wounds had just been split open again to fill you with a pretty bad fear and dread. Like who the fuck wants to work in a cubicle? Be real for a second.

But nonetheless, here you were - Waystar Royco in the Big Apple, New York City. Some say it's the biggest apple of them all. You personally felt that honey crisp apples were bigger than the average apple, but, New York was just no ordinary apple - it was a city. And a big, busy city at that.

You really thought about that saying, "don't knock it 'til you try it!" and how based the person who ever came up with that was. There was something so sophisticated when you put on those black heels, that white buttoned up shirt and little slutty plaid (or gingham, whichever you prefer!) skirt. You've never seen the show Mad Men but imagined that was the vibe.

"I'm just a woman in the workplace", you'd recite to yourself as you dressed up in the morning, hyping your self-esteem UP. "Just a woman doing some serious business."

You also had no fucking idea as to what that 'business' was, and in all seriousness you weren't really sure what Waystar was all about. You would Google it at work, but something in your eye receptors or whatever blocked your brain from processing the information. Needless to say, you're a bimbo.

As you fixed your hair into a messy bun, but not too messy because that's not work appropriate, you reminisced on your little rags to riches story. You were just a girl who dropped out of theater school for reasons not important. Some say you were expelled but honestly tomayto tomahto. Everyone will always have their own opinions.

It wasn't all that hard, now that you were knee-deep into the company. It had first seemed overwhelming and intimidating, but honestly, it was really just running around and giving people papers, coffee, other mumbo jumbo like that. What you learned pretty quickly, was that if you walked fast and made it look like you had something on your mind, then no one would bother you because you looked busy. Your leg muscles went CRAZY so there was no need for some stair master bullshit.

You were just an ordinary assistant, mainly for the Logan Roy himself. There was a sense of importance and untouchability with every step your heels took in that fat building, you were literally Logan's number one bitch, (that's what he liked to call you in confidence!). And no one could tell you shit and that's that. You were basically hands off and free from any critique by your peers, even if you sucked donkey ass at your job.

Honestly the only reason he hired you because he liked how kinda oblivious (and a bit dumb) you were, since you never really pestered him with questions about what he was doing and you just do what you're told. "You're not annoying as fuck like my goddamned kids," he'd say. He thought you always stayed in your own lane because you were being respectful and minded your own business, but in actuality it was because you had no fucking clue what they were talking about the great majority of the time. If they weren't speaking in weird riddles and metaphors and similes, they were talking something about numbers. And math wasn't your forte. You literally just found out that "pi" actually meant 3.14 and wasn't actually slang for pumpkin/apple pie.

No one knew how you got the job or what qualifications you even had, but it didn't matter. No, it was all just between you and Lowgie Bear <3 (that was you liked to call him in confidence and was also the name for his contact on your phone). Even if you were on your work laptop playing games like Papa's Pizzeria, no one would even dare to ask if you were actually working. You were so focused on those games it looked as though you were popping some fun big numbers on Excel.

That morning when you got to the office, you did your usual - said hello to the people at front desk, hoped inside the elevator, listened to the click and clack of your heels, got to your office, prepared some coffee, and while that was brewing you signed into your computer and printed out the daily report. While that printed, you lit up your TJ Maxx candle, played some ambient mukbang ASMR on full blast (you're low-key deaf) and looked out the window into that concrete jungle Alicia Keys called New York. You always got to work bright and early, and that was mainly because you lived in an extra mailroom on the last floor in the basement. Logan said it was because he always wanted to keep you close.

It was a beautiful, clear morning, free of any suspicious airplanes. One of your favorite things to do was recite to yourself "I built this." Even though you didn't have literally one thing to do with the construction and knew nothing about scaffolding, it was a good affirmation that helped give you the confidence for the day. You felt like a mother holding her coffee watching her children rip those gifts to shreds like gross little rabid gremlins.

You loved having your new office. It originally belonged to Roman, Logan's son, who you swore was the youngest of all his children but that was actually Shiv. Despite birth records, you still didn't believe he wasn't the youngest. It arguably caused some premature strife between you and Roman when you acquired his office, but you didn't really care. Even after you insulted him the first time you met him, saying he "looked like that Home Alone kid",  from that moment forward he had such a distaste and hatred for you, finding the comment extremely offensive. But like I said you didn't really care tbh. It was the truth and you wanted nothing to do with him, something Logan was also keen on. He always protected you. He was ride or die <3 Some might stay he was a stan <3

A knock came at your door. You whipped around in your rolling chair to see your girl - Gerri.

"Good morning, Gerri!" you said.

She smiled. She was so mother. "Y/N, remember - you can't light candles. It's a fire hazard." She smirked at your forgetfulness. She reminded you of a cute Littlest Pet Shop mouse.

You blew it out. "Yeah, I know, it just always stinks of an office in here. So what if a little a Vanilla Bean causes a little fire? A little fire never hurt anyone."

"I guess, Y/N. Until it does."

"Until it does what?"

"Never mind. Listen, Logan's in a meeting right now. Give him about a quarter to nine before you bring him his daily report or whatever."

"Sure," you said. Like what was previously said, math was not your forte. You only thought a quarter was for two things - a genre of coin and the quarter pounder, which was what you ordered when you resorted to McDonalds when Burger King wasn't available. Since when is a quarter involved in time?

"What are those daily reports about, anyway? I've always wondered," Gerri asked curiously before closing the door.

"Oh, Gerri, I would tell you. But Logan said he'll knock me off the side of a cruise ship like those women if I spilled."

Gerri didn't seem that content about what you said, giving what you know was a fake smile, and closed the door behind her as she left to the meeting. As you struggled to find out what a quarter meant, it just so happened you saw through the glass a tall ass man child limp by your room.

You got up and ran to the door. "Greg!" you called in a harsh whisper, but wasn't successful as a whisper since you saw everyone's head clocked towards you from their desks. "Greg!"

He turned and lit up when he saw you, literally like the child he is. He limped to your door. "Y/N, hey, good morning. What's up?"

"Why are you limping?" you asked, confused as to why he was limping.

"Oh, well, uh," he hesitated and looked around. "Tom and I were sitting at this like, ATN meeting, like across from each other? We started playing - well, are you familiar with the game 'footsies'? Well, we were getting pretty, I guess, into it? I mean, Tom a little more-so than me? And he I guess started to get upset because I was winning? But I'm not completely sure how to win footsies? So he got a little carried away, I guess? He started hitting me quite violently with his foot, like no longer in the playful manner? Anyway, my leg's all bruised -"

"- Greg I have a question. What's a quarter to nine mean?"

He thought for a moment. He needed to lean down a bit for your short ass to hear the whisper. "A quarter? You mean like the coin? Or the burger -"

"No dumbass bitch, a quarter to nine."

"Ohhhh," he said, "sorry, my, or - our separation, like our distance in height prevented me from hearing like, the rest of your sentence. I believe a quarter to nine is, if my knowledge doesn't precede me, eight forty-five."

"Okay great thanks!" you closed the door behind him soon after. You liked Greg, but was sure not to be around him for too long, as anywhere Greg was, so was Tom. And Tom was not your favorite to be around when you were sober. Greg was like a cub and Tom was the mama bear. Wherever there's a cub, the mama was always near. Cocaine bear proved that. #ripRayLiotta

Once that quarter to eight came, you grabbed Logan's favorite cup of coffee, (it was a mug that read "I'm Grumpy Without My Coffee" with Grumpy Cat's face on it #ripGrumpyCat) and the daily report that was freshly printed. You began to walk down the hall towards his office. He had his blinds down, so upon entering you literally didn't expect every fucking person and their mother to be there.

You barged in, "Lowgie Bear! I have you daily repor -" and you were shell shocked. Logan was sat at his desk, hands together like a villain, surrounded by literally everyone. Gerri, Frank, Karl, Stewy, Hugo, Karolina, Roman, Shiv, Greg (and next to him mama bear Tom) and - Kendall.

Kendall. Ken. Kenny.

What was there to say? You froze staring at his fine Mickey Mouse personified face.

You and Kendall - well, you two had history. Actually, it was barely history but there was some pretext. Basically, ever since the first time you met, there was tension. And the good tension, not that Roman type of tension...................................................................

You remembered where you were the day before you met Kendall - the day before you met any of the Roys - boxes in your arms filled with all your stuff from your dorm, standing on some New York street, something like a corner and third, lost like a rat who was kicked out from his borough. All you had to eat that day was a hot dog from the floor that you wrestled a rat for to get. You stood there embarrassingly as cars flew by you, splashing puddles of water all over your Juicy tracksuit. You hated being helpless on the street - the last time that happened a taxi screeecccchheeeddddd on the side of the corner. You didn't want that to happen again.

Then, you felt your phone buzz against your fat butt. You put one of the boxes down, but it actually slipped and some of your shit fell down the sewer drain.

"Motherfucker!" you yelled, ready to cry. Things were definitely not going your way. "What's a girl to fucking do?! Who the fuck is this?"

You reached to your pocket and pulled out your iPhone 4s. It was a number you didn't recognize, but you weren't about to just hang up. No, you were going to see who the fuck decided to give you a little ring and caused your fake Puka shell necklace, Medellín snow globe, pink Barbie Benadryl pills, and extra large tampons to fall into the sewers. Tampons were expensive in today's economy, after all that inflation business or whatever.

"What, bitch?" you snapped.

"Y/N! Hey, it's Willa!"

"Oh my God, Willa, girl, hey!" you smiled, your voice flipping into your true friendly self. Thank god it was her, because being a Karen wasn't your style. That lifestyle was for the Karen's. "Where've you been?"

"Y/N, what a couple of months it's been, you won't believe. I'm calling from my boyfriend's phone, I lost mine."

"Your boyfriend?" you thought, "oh yeah, Zachary, right?"

"No, Connor, actually. Listen, I wanna hang out with you! Connor's going to be out of town for a couple days, you know, work and stuff, but his family is having this little getty at his dad's house. Come with me!"

"Willa I would so love to! When is it?"

"Tomorrow night. I can pick you up at your dorm!"

"Actually Willa," you said, "that can't happen. I got kicked out. Long story. I'm actually homeless as we speak."

"Oh, really? Look it's okay, I can get you a hotel room until you find a place to stay. I would let you stay at me and Connor's, but he gets paranoid someone's gonna take his Napoleonic memorabilia."

"Yeah totally that makes sense. Thanks a bunch!"

Willa, being your girl, got you that hotel room. And that shit was nice as fuck like Scarface when Tony Montana was in that bathtub smoking that cigar. It made you so happy to know your girl Willa got her sugar daddy. You both met in a theater production you were forced to go to for school, but the experience was a lot less boring when you met her. From that day on, you two were destined to be just a couple of girlies. She was like a breath of fresh shy white girl that you couldn't find anywhere else.

You were sitting in the bathtub that resembles Tony Montana's and had accidentally knocked out the fuck out when your phone rang. Thank god it woke you up cause you were about three more minutes before you were completely submerged and could've drowned :/ . You jumped up and scrambled for your phone on the bathroom counter, suds of soap all over your head that blocked your vision. It was Willa.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N, you ready? I'm downstairs in the car."

"Uh, yeah I am! Just give me like five, girlie!" you hung up, catapulted your phone across the room, jumped out of the scorching hot tub butt ass naked and ran for your dress that laid out on the bed. You dried yourself of all the suds with the towel before catapulting that out too.

"We'll just have to go braless and pantiless. No bras, no panties! No bras, no panties!" you repeated in an effort to justify the lack of bras and panties. You then threw your dress over you, shoved your heels on, and picked up your hair in a clip. "No bras, no panties!"

Just as you were out for the door, you saw yourself in the mirror and wanted to throw up - the anxiety had built in you and you felt your butt clench. You needed to shit but there was literally no time for this.

"Move, bitch!" you yelled at a guest as you bolted down the hallway towards the elevator, slamming them against the wall. Guests must've thought you planted a bomb or something in your room with how manic you looked and how fast your legs were taking you.

"STOMP! STOMP! SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT!", your feet said as you ran. It was the best thing you knew how to do.

Water was still dripping down your leg, and once you got outside the cold New York wind intensified the coolness of it so much so that it was basically stinging. It stung. You jumped over all five steps and landed on the ground, banging your hand on the tinted window.

"Let me in! Let me in! LET ME INNNNNNN!!!!!!" you yelled. The window rolled down, revealing your girl, Willa.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, what's wrong? Hop in!"

You jumped through the window feet first despite the door being opened moments prior.

You two were in the backseat, now off to the gala! "This is a nice car," you said. "Presidential type. Like, JFK would've loved this."

"JFK?"

"John Fitzgerald Kennedy? Like, it's so secretive. He would've liked it because it could've prevented his death, you know. No one can see inside."

Willa's stares lingered on you for several moments before she finally said something. You couldn't talk much after because you were too winded.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

You turned away from the window and looked to her. You tried to smile, but you were too tired too. It looked like a part of your face was melting. "Yeah girl I'm fine. You look great! Why do you ask?"

"Just, cause, uh," she looked you up and down, "you're dripping wet."

"Yeah it was raining."

"Raining? But it's been clear all day -"

"In the room. I mean my hotel room," you chuckled, "it was raining in my hotel room."

She was definitely confused.

"You know, leaks and all," you finished. You thought it best to move on. "Do you have any makeup on you? I thought I should go all natural, you know, no makeup. But now I'm regretting my decision."

"Yeah, I think I have mascara," she opened her purse and pulled it out, giving it to you.

"Better than Sex, oh my god that's like vintage. Like 2016 vintage," you said and used your phone as a reflection to put it on. Some bumps in the road caused the wand to jam into your eye causing it to go red but nonetheless your lashes were coated. You gave it back. You checked how you now looked in the reflection of the car - but it just seemed you had pink eyes in both eyes. Uh oh.

"That's all I have, Y/N, I'm sorry," Willa said, still shuffling through her ludicrously capacious bag.

"No, it's okay. Sometimes mascara is all you need! But sometimes it's not. How come you invited me? Not that I wouldn't have wanted to come, but like, what happened with Connor?"

"Oh you know, he's on this campaign tour thing and all that. I just didn't want to go alone," she chuckled, embarrassed.

"Sounds fun," you said. "Who's this family?"

"The Roys. They're a bit crazy."

You laughed. "What do you mean, crazy? I've seen crazy, heck - you've seen crazy. We were literally in theater together. I bet they aren't even that bad."

"No, they're pretty bad. They can all be pretty mean. And judgey. They're like, blood related but not actually a family, you know? So, like, don't engage with them too much. They don't like when you look in their eyes for too long. So where'd you get your dress? It's so pretty."

"Goodwill," you said confidently. "Isn't it pretty? It makes my ass look fat bro."

You shifted over to show her, struggling as you were still wet and inadvertently created a slip and slide on the leather seats.

She agreed it was fat. "Wow, that's from Goodwill? I wouldn't have thought."

You sat back down. "Of course, what, you think I was gonna buy a dress? I'm broke, remember."

"Well, wait, didn't you have that money from Colombia?"

"Well who says I bought it," you said, biting your tongue with a smile, "also don't bring up Colombia."

You two had finally made it to Logan's penthouse and pulled up outside. You both stepped out and entered, going into the elevator.

"Willa, this is like, rich rich," you whispered.

"I told you," she whispered back.

Once inside the penthouse, you knew you had to unlock your inner theater girl - not the annoying one, but the ACTING one. You had to unlock the Y/N self that belonged here - with the upper echelon of society. This was your debut.

You quickly lost Willa. One minute she was with you in the mess of all these people, and the next moment she was gone. But you couldn't let it throw you off - sometimes in theater, you know since it's live, mistakes happen! The show must go on!

You grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray of a waiter and stood up straighter. You sipped, and despite it tasting like expired sparkling water, you sipped and sipped. You then downed three others - that liquid courage had now been activated and in full effect.

"Man this tastes like dick," you thought. Rich people really did have shitty taste.

The air smelled of expensive cologne and perfume, you wondered if their noses built a tolerance to how strong it was because it was extremely overwhelming and frankly nauseating. Maybe all the coke they do blocks sensory receptors? Who knows, but Jesus Christ it was as if there was an oil spill that actually smelled good but not too good when it's all mixed together. So yeah basically an oil spill in the water but there's no Dawn to save it.

You felt your tummy rumble.

Mama's getting hungry...mama needs to eat so the monster doesn't come out....

But it didn't take long for you to realize that it wasn't cause you were hungry. After all, you more than helped yourself to the snack bar, basically chilling there for like fifteen minutes fucking up everything they had to offer. Rich people didn't seem to like eating, because all the food was barely touched. How ungrateful. The last thing you had to eat was that hot dog you had to roundhouse kick that rat to the ground.

No, it was that very familiar feeling - the feeling when your bowels are incontrollable and on fire. Your body tensed and your heart began to race - you needed to shit. But when didn't you?

You darted (and farted) in every direction, looking for a door that appeared to resemble a bathroom. You felt that anxiety amp up as you failed to find one. You then began to walk around, essentially crop-dusting, still searching but keeping the composure of your rich socialite character you were playing tonight. Never mind the beads of sweat that ran down your face and the shortness of your breath that resembled an asthma attack.

"Y/N! There you are, I thought I lost you!" you turned and saw your girl, Willa. "I was looking for you, I even went to the food bar looking for you -"

"Willa where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? I'm hurting," you ordered. "I'm hurting bad."

"Oh, it's literally right behind you. Go in, I'll wait out here. I wanna introduce you to some people -"

You turned to find a door and pushed that shit open, revealing a beautiful porcelain toilet. You entered and shut the door behind you before Willa could even finish.

You hit that toilet and everything, and I mean everything, came out. You desecrated that once beautiful porcelain toilet. The formation was solid, meaning you were healthy! You smiled, you loved solid ones. It made you feel so healthy. Anyway you looked around the bathroom for any refreshers or sprays - you didn't wanna exactly leave your scent in here. But honestly you weren't scared if you did, their colognes and perfumes could overpower it.

Once you finished, you wiped front to back cause you're not a degenerate and flushed, then flushed again to rid any remaining skid marks to cover any evidence. After all, girl's don't shit. You washed your hands on the beautiful porcelain sink and took yourself in in the mirror - you always  looked and felt renewed after emptying yourself. Who needs coke when you have your natural bodily processes?

You noticed some q-tips that were scattered around, snapped in two, and some pieces of magazines ripped all over the floor. You looked below to the trash bin, and saw all sorts of broken decor, more q-tips and magazine pieces stuffed inside. There was also a broken hairdryer and smears of black on the cabinets. It appeared a lot of violence had went down.

"They must've had a crazy number two," you thought. You laughed to yourself, "Oh, how I've been there."

Once you washed up and after taking some grainy selfies on your iPhone 4s, you went back outside and saw your girl Willa waiting.

"Relieved?"

"Oh, girl, always. It's like spiritual meditation, you know," you said. "Anyway, Willa, you told me this was a getty - but this is like an actual party." You couldn't help but feel yourself smirk at all the possibilities - the champagne was hitting. Willa seemed to read you like a book.

"Y/N, no, I know what you're thinking. Yeah it's more of a party than a getty, but it's not a party party. You can't get 'faded' or 'off da juice' or whatever you like to say. Just don't embarrass me, please. These people are not fans of plus ones," Willa explained, sure to make sure that you got the vibe. You did and assured her. After all, getting fucked up wasn't a part of your character in tonight's script!

"It's okay, Willa, I won't. I thought these rich people would have good alcohol, but after having some to calm the nerves, you know, it's really not that good. Honestly I think I shit most of it out. Liquidated, you know?" you bit your tongue like a mom, but you didn't realize when you did since it was ingrained in who you were, "See? I'm fitting in just fine with these business people!"

Willa began to introduce to you to a bunch of the people there, but you honestly started to get overwhelmed. There was no differentiating between them, they were all old white people and you forgot their names the moment after Willa said them, so you just opted to referring to everyone as "girlie". Some didn't like it but some people don't like seeing a woman succeed.

"Hey, Willa, I'm gonna take a break. It's just a lot of people to take in right now, you know? It's a lot at once," you said. Willa understood and was going to talk to some others, leaving you back to yourself.

You got bored pretty quick. You weren't talking to anyone but the character you were playing was also getting bored. If you couldn't drink, then what fun was there to do? No one was dancing, no one was getting 'lit'. But there was one thing you knew - and that was that someone here had drugs. Like, rich people drugs. You weren't just about to do ketamine or bath salts, but maybe weed? You handled yourself well when you were high and maybe it could help this experience altogether?

You began to scope around for someone who resembled a stoner. It was pretty difficult because everyone was wearing nice outfits like suits and dresses, so picking out who in the building that looked like they skated and listened to Odd Future was proving difficult.

"My god, what's a girl gotta do to smoke around here?" you thought.

And then - you found him. He was abnormally tall and definitely looked like he might be a pothead. He was standing outside on the balcony, looking clueless like a puppy or some shit. Man definitely didn't belong here.

"These nepo babies", you thought to yourself as you b-lined towards him.

"Hey, can I smoke with you?" you asked. He turned and looked down at you. You didn't feel you were that short but brother in Christ this man was tall.

"Uh, I'm sorry? I don't think we've met," he extended his hand out for a shake. You shook it, but didn't like it, "I'm Greg, I'm, uh, I'm Logan's nephew. Well, great nephew, technically. But we've like, fostered a relationship, where I'm more of a nephew than a great nephew -"

"- Yeah that's great I'm sure you're great. I'm Y/N. Do you have weed? Mama - I mean, I could use some."

The tall dude named Greg the great nephew smiled like a little boy, "Yeah I do. I get you, it's a lot of people around. That's how I felt when I first got here, you know. Perhaps we should go to the other side of the terrace, perhaps a more secluded area?"

"Yeah whatever," you said. You followed him a little farther down the balcony, behind some shrubbery that blocked you from the sight of all the other rich old people. He stuck his hand inside his pocket and pulled out a small baggie of weed. He continued to shuffle through, but seemed to have lost something. "Oh shit, I forgot the wrappers at home."

There was no way you were going to miss out cause this dodo bird forgot wrappers. "That's okay," you spat. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

You walked back out into the balcony, then back to inside to the food bar. You grabbed some slimy slices of cheese and salami, then went back out to meet Greg.

"Here, use these," you presented him the slices of salami and cheese, but there was no thought behind his blue Miley eyes.

"Uh, what?"

"Roll with these. I've done it before, here, give me," you grabbed the baggie from his hands and began to scatter the bud in a straight little line across the salami and cheese. You then rolled it up tightly, licking the ends shut and presenting it to Greg, who was safe to stay, astonished.

"You really just crafted a doobie out of salami and cheese?" he said, in awe.

"It sucks being poor. You learn your way around things. I also saw this on a clip on YouTube from that show Extreme Cheapskates. Here," you gave him the deli spliff and began to roll another.

"Does this thing really work?" Greg asked you, inspecting it.

"Okay, Grav3yardgirl," you said. "It does. It's basically a life hack."

Greg pulled out a lighter and lit the end, taking in a drag successfully. He was still in awe.

"This is like, inventive. I mean, there is a hint of, uh, dairy and meat, but it's not actually that bad. It's like a true bodega joint. It's just missing the bagel and the salami would have to be bacon instead."

You lit up your joint and you were set - this was it. You looked over the balcony and taking in the city and those hits. You felt like Remy from Ratatouille eating the strawberry and cheese, all the flavors were coming together. It was disgusting at first, but tolerable after a while. Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.

You two sat in silence for some minutes, enjoying one another's company.

"So, would you rather be trapped in a pool with a shark, or with a tiger in a cage?" he asked. You looked over to him, his eyes blood red and glossy.

"Uh, honestly," it took you a moment to process what he was saying. You felt so slow and a little stupid. "Well, how about this instead - gay son or thot daughter?"

Greg took a moment before answering. You frankly forgot what you asked by the time he answered. "Well, uh, in terms of which I'd rather have, I honestly don't know exactly. Maybe like, whatever would come first, you know, if I had a son or daughter first, maybe the logistics of the situation would play a factor," he took another moment. "Honestly this question is kinda stressing me out. Is it supposed to do that?"

"Uh, heyyyyy Gregggguuhh! What are you doing out here, buddy? I've been missing my Sporus!"

You both turned your heads pretty slowly to your left, seeing a head pop out on the side of the shrubbery. It looked as if he was floating and your inebriated self thought it actually was. He resembled Horton from Horton Hears a Who.

"Oh, uh, hey Tom," said Greg. "Tom, this is Y/N."

You waved. He came out from behind and revealed his entire body. You were relived that he wasn't floating after all.

"Y/N, huh? And from where do you sprout from, huh? From what depths have you appeared to land a spot on this balcony?"

You stared at him blankly. You saw his eyes dart from yours to both of your joints. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Are those, are you eating the food bar's deli as if it was a cigarette? Why is it all rolled in that fashion, huh Greg?"

"It's, uh, it's weed. Do you want some?" Greg offered.

"Weed? What do you mean 'weed', Greg?" he inspected Greg's salami and cheese, also in awe. He scoffed, stumped. "Well aren't you just a little brainiac scientist? What are you going to do next, Greg, are you going to make a nuke out of the potato salad?"

"It was actually, it was actually Y/N that made these."

Tom looked to you. "Really?"

Though it didn't appear as so, you were getting overwhelmed as you had gotten used to just Greg's presence, and it didn't help you were still getting over the fact Tom wasn't actually floating. All you could muster up to do was a very lazy, slightly paralyzed-looking biting tongue in your white mom way. It was really your default response.

"Uh, what was that?" Tom asked.

"What was what?" you asked back.

"That tongue thing - right there, when you bit your tongue. Wait there - you just did it again!" he said, pointing at you. You didn't realize it but you did do it again. "How'd you do that?"

"Um, I don't know you said. You just do it," you repeated it again. He seemed to really enjoy it as he began to laugh in disbelief.

"That seems fun!" he said, and he began to do the same, "it's quite fun, isn't it?" He then continued, one after the other until he got the bite right, enjoying himself. You and Greg watched with dead faces. You weren't sure for how long that lasted (it was an hour).

"Uh, the fuck is going on here? What kind of orgy is this?" another voice boomed.

A small man came out from behind. You felt your anxiety grow more now that another person was added behind the shrubbery.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked you. His squeaky voice was one that you found extremely irritating.

"I'm me," you said, more sass in your tone to match his.

He looked to your salami cheese roll up. "The fuck is that? Wait, are you smoking weed out of what the fuck is even that," he looked closer at it, "fucking havarti cheese? I mean, how poor are you? Aren't my tax dollars for you fucking welfare checks to afford wrappers?"

Greg rose up. "It's actually, uh, pretty innovative. It just proves, I think, personally, that anything can be a wrapper if you want it to be. Like, if you set your mind to it."

"Yeah, how about that? Say can my dick be a wrapper if you 'set your mind to it'? And what about you," he turned to your direction, "what're you a fucking - a fucking mute? Who are you fucking, Helen Keller?"

You continued to stare him down. You didn't know what it was but his little presence was really starting to make you angry. A part of you had the strong urge to stand and use all your strength to knock this elf on the shelf motherfucker over the ledge. He seemed to be reading your face.

"Her name is actually Y/N," said Greg.

"Y/N, huh?" he looked to Tom, who this entire time had been practicing his mom tonguing. "The fuck is wrong with you? Why does it look like you're having a stroke?"

"Can you leave us alone," you finally said.

He whipped his head back to you, a daring look on his face. "Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do? Run to Twitter and cancel me? I'm Roman Roy, motherfucker. You can't cancel this," he motioned his entire petite body.

"You look like the kid from Home Alone," you shot back. "The one that got left alone."

Roman's face froze. He could not believe what the fuck you just said. Greg giggled but soon stopped once he realizes just how quickly and deeply Roman was made insecure.

You didn't want to linger for any longer in the awkward silence, so you quickly rose and bolted.

"That was the weirdest blunt rotation I've ever had", you thought. And you once smoked with Pablo Escobar's mom.

Fortunately, parallel to the other side the terrace was another corner covered on shrubbery. It was a perfect spot to finish off your joint, now in complete peace but not complete silence, as the party was still going on like ten feet away.

It was now nearing nighttime. The sun began to set over Alicia Key's concrete jungle.

"Hey, mind if I join?"

"Jesus Christ how many are there of you?!" you screamed, turning to your right to see who the fuck was it now disturbing your silence now.

And that was him. Kendall. You didn't know it at the time but that was Kendall Roy.

"Oh, sorry, I, uh, didn't mean to bother you -"

"No it's okay," you quickly switched up, sure to smile. "Come sit. I'm sorry, I just, I got stressed out." You giggled in embarrassment, sounding a little like Trisha Paytas.

He took the seat beside you. "No, I get it," he smiled, revealing his goofy fine ass smile, "it can get pretty annoying, all these fuckers here put in one place. Kendall."

"Y/N," you said. You then offered your roll up, "you wanna kill it?"

He took it. "Sure. I don't even know what the fuck this is, but fuck it," he placed the entire roll up into his mouth, the tip of it barely out from his lips as he took a hit. You watched, transfixed and taken aback. He began to blow out rings and laughed as he coughed. "Jesus, that's some strong fucking shit there."

You tried not to look too much at him, instead facing back forward. But you couldn't help it. Man was fine as fuck in the goofiest way. The way he blew those rings - I mean what that mouth do I don't know.

You remembered a quote you saw on a Pinterest board once - "Compliments are just the absolute best ❤️ ". Now was your time to shine and put that quote to WORK.

"Your eyebrows."

He looked over to you. "Sorry? My eyebrows?"

"They're like, thin. Like Y2K vibes. I have to use a Men's shaver to get mine like yours - but you just have them all natural."

He nodded. He didn't get what the fuck you were on about. "Thanks. So who are you?" he asked. "Who do you know here?"

"I'm Willa's friend," you replied. From then on, you two spoke the rest of the night, free from any disturbance as you two were hidden in the shrubbery. As time went on, you felt a strong connection with him, and despite him being attractive, there was somewhat of a sad presence around him, in his self-deprecating way. There was something helpless, something loser about him that you felt immensely relatable. You could tell that he lacked a mother (and honestly father) figure, something you felt immediately attached to. Not to say that just because you're a girl means you're going to have motherly instincts all the time, but it was extremely intense with this one. A part of you wanted to pick up your hair in a ponytail and let everything do the rest, but another part of you wanted to cradle this man and pop a boob out to breastfeed his ass like the mother from Barbarian did to Justin Long's character.

Later that night, he'd introduce you to his father, Logan, and that was it. You won him over as assistant when he asked you a simple question, "Y/N. What would you do with a million dollars?" he was trying to prove something to his kids but you didn't realize it then. Your answer was quick, simple, and to the point: "If I had a million dollars I would buy so many cheeseburgers and Big Macs in McDonald's. I would also go to sweet tomatoes during lunch hour and I would tell the manager I want to co-own the business. And then I would fly myself to meet harry styles and offer him some money (not like he needs it) and ask him if he can be my boyfriend. And he can't deny my proposal cause I own sweet tomatoes. And I can offer him McDonald's food and he'll love me for that."

He loved that answer. "Smart. Very smart."

From that point on, you pretty much secured your position that family.

Working at the office, you and Kendall flirted here and there, but it never became anything too serious, to your own dismay. You loved the adrenaline that came through you when you saw him at work, and weren't at all opposed to the little office romance you two had going on. A little Jim and Pam hurt no one. You'd even post on your Instagram stories a screenshot of the two and type out "me and who". Kendall hearted it every time <3

One of your favorite parts of the day was getting ready for work, where you woke up two hours earlier to do your makeup and hair, and mentally prepare yourself for when you saw him at work. You looked cute asf every time, so the days he wouldn't show - let's just say it was very difficult for you to go on. Those days always ended up being the worst and resulted in you going to an extra storage room by yourself and going absolutely ape shit and trashing the entire place to let go some of that unwanted tension from the lack of the wanted tension from Kendall.

Okay so back to the office. Again, EVERYONE was there.

You snapped out of your trance. "Oh, uh, I'll come back later!" You were about to turn around, as you were not mentally prepared for all of that, let alone Kendall. He hadn't been in the office for several days and it just so happened that you got self-diagnosed with depression at that same time. See the coincidence?

"The fuck do you want?" Roman asked. "Don't you see the adults are talking?"

"Watch it, Roman," Kendall said. He always came to your rescue and it made you all hot down there.

"Shut up," Roman said to his brother. Oh no. That was a no-no in your book, no-no.

"Shut up Home Alone bitch!" you shot back.

He glared at you. It was like a slur for that man. You saw the flashbacks from the party replay behind his eyes, it filled you with such satisfaction. "You don't tell me to shut up! What do you want? Why are you even here, huh? Wanna crack my dad's back again, huh?"

"Romulus, enough," Logan said. His voice had such power it made the room fall silent again. Roman, annoyed and upset with his father's picking of sides, gave up. He crossed his arms and turned to face the window, away from you. "I'm sorry, Y/N."

"No, it's totally okay!" you said to your boss, "I love a little office rapport!"

Logan smiled softly, his little white mustache moving upwards. He turned to Roman. "For the record, Y/N cracks backs better than any one of you morons in here can." He turned to you again. "What is it, Y/N?"

"I have the, you know," you motioned to the papers, "you know. The documents."

Logan's face lit up. "Oh yes, yes. Alright everyone, fuck off!"

Everyone looked to one another, clueless.

"Well, wait. Logan. What do we do? We need to have a decision for tonight, for the markets, before the stock closes," said Frank.

The moment the words "markets" and "stocks" came out of Frank's mouth, they were as if they were the secret code to turn your brain off. You zoned out the moment they began to blabber on, incapable of deciphering whatever the fuck they were talking about. All the big words were difficult for you to understand. In fact, you didn't understand literally anyone in this office but you did a pretty good job at pretending you did. Your usual rotation of responses were as follows:

"Oh my god yes we have to think about the numbers!" or

"Yeah, the shareholders won't be big fans of that!" or

"The stock! We need to think about how it'll affect he stock!" or

"Yes! Investors are investing!"

There were more and even though sometimes saying any of these would result you in getting pretty confused looks, playing the office bimbo was just, well, YOUR forte. Not math.

You knew they were finished talking when they all began to leave. You snapped out of your disassociation and opened the door for them as they all left. Kendall gave you a small nod (you blushed), Gerri said thank you, Tom did his little white mom tongue that he now completely mastered, and Stewy winked at you. All the others just left, except Roman, who left last. He stopped at the door, and in a whisper said, "Keep up your attitude and I'll personally hire a tech fucker to wipe all your Sims 3 files from your PC."

You ignored him and shut the door behind him, pushing and forcing him out. He couldn't do that. Do you know how hard it was to log into your computer? No one would guess your password was ImJohnnyKnoxvillesLittleTenesseeWhiskeyCowgirl123.

You walked over to Logan as he put his glasses on and inspected the papers you put in front of him. "The fuck is it today?" he looked at the papers carefully, then closely, but ultimately threw it down. "Can you read it, Y/N, the print is so fucking small!"

"Of course, Logan!" you smiled, you cleared your throat. "Okay, today's date October 13th! Today's horoscope for Libras are, (insert here an entire usual horoscope bullshit here that really doesn't mean or say anything despite having a shit ton of words and sentences that sound like they make sense but they don't)."

Logan took a second after you finished. He began to nod. "Sounds about fucking right. I'm surrounded by MORONS!" he looked to you, "Not you, Y/N, you're just a bimbo."

"Aw, thanks, of course! Do you need anything else?"

"Yes, actually. I don't know how to get that goddamned Alexa to fucking work! Can you turn it on for me, Y/N, or fix it. Whatever the fuck, just do something about it!"

You walked over to it, initially not believing you could even try to attack the root of the problem. But, it wasn't hard. It was plugged out of its socket. No biggie. "Fixed it!"

"Thank you, Y/N, can you play that uh," he sat, thinking in his old man brain, "that woman."

"What woman?" you asked.

"Erm, that woman you know the one. You played it last time."

"Oh!" you remembered, "Lana! Yeah sure, what song?"

"The one I liked."

"Alexa, play Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey."

The Alexa lit up blue and began to play. Logan nodded. "Nothing better than a woman who's proud to be an American woman." Logan put his glasses back on and began to look at other mumbo jumbo documents at his desk. "Thank you, Y/N. You may go now."

You walked over to the door, "anything else, Logan?"

"Actually yes, one more thing," he looked above his papers to you, "Go get your nails done. You need refills, 'girlie'."

You looked down to your hands. It was true. You really did need refills bad. It's literally been five fucking weeks and those acrylics were barely hanging on.

You were now at the nail salon, admiring your new set - they were a French set - Logan's favorite. You sat in the chair waiting for your nail lady to get a seat to do your feet. It was packed in there, but you weren't leaving until your patas were done.

"Well, well, look who's here."

You turned around at the bell on the door ringing. Stewy had just entered.

"Hey Stewy," you said, surprised, "what are you doing here? Picking up your girlfriend?"

He showed his well groomed hands. His nails were short and smooth - no cuticle in SIGHT.

"I always knew you were a well-manicured man." He took his own seat with his lady and began to create some rapport with her.

"Hey so listen, there's like no chairs that are going to be available soon, is it okay if we put you in the backrooms chair?" you nail lady asked.

"Yeah sure! Let's go!"

She took you to the back which resembled a photo from that liminal spaces Twitter account and sat you down on a lawn chair with an Orbeez Soothing Spa at the bottom. You put your patas in those rubber boba-esque balls, enjoying the weird sensation on your feet. She didn't realize, but as she was getting things to prepare, you kept popping some of those balls in with your feet. They were delicious. She then began to get to work, taking a little longer than usual taking off all your dead skin. It looked like parmesan cheese had been coated all over those rubber balls.

Mid-way in, with the first coat, your phone began to ring. It was no longer an iPhone 4s, you were able to upgrade now to an iPhone 7 rose gold! Though your nails were still wet, you struggled to grab it from your side with just the palms of your hands.

You gasped, wide-eyed at the contact name. It was Kendall.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" you worried. Your nail lady gave you a giant side eye. "Can you answer it? I can't, my nails -"

You passed it over to her, but before she could grab it your phone thought it would be funny to do a little slippy slip slip from your hands and fell into the Orbeez bath. "Oh fuck!"

Your nail lady grabbed the iPhone, drying it with a towel, answered the phone and passed it over to you. You scrambled to answer.

"Hello, Kendall? Oh my God," you called. His voice was cracky and static. You looked to the lady, pointing at it, "it's Kendall!"

"No, it's wet. There's water in your phone, it's broken."

"Oh no!" you cried, "Ken, can you hear me?"

"He- lo- Y/N - cn an - you - ear - meeee"

The line then dropped, and your phone screen went black. "He sounds like shit. Man. I missed my fucking chance. FUCK!" you catapulted your now broken phone across the salon, accidentally and effectively hitting Stewy in the face. He was not happy. It was a habit you really needed to break.

After you finished both your mani and pedi, you went back to Waystar ready to present to Logan just where his money had gone. It was night time by now, so the building was bordering on empty.

You went up the elevator and went straight for his office - but oh no he's not there.

"Aw, man," you said, saddened. You turned back around, back for the exit, with lack of pep in your step...

"Hey, Y/N," you turned over - oh fuck it's Kendall. "Hey, I called you earlier."

"Oh, hey Kendall. Yeah sorry, I was doing my nails and my phone slipped into the Orbeez Soothing Spa thing. Look at them," you presented your hands. He touched them softly, looking at them in the light. His touch made you SHIT.

"Wow," he said, admiring them, "why are they so long?"

"Uh, cause the longer the better, duh!"

"What's this white powder, under your nail? That white shit? Is that why they're long, you're snorting?" he began to giggle.

"Uh no," you took your hands away from his gently and inspected it for yourself, "it's baby powder. I chafe bad. Some must've gotten stuck. Anyway, you going to Logan's birthday dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, that's actually why I called you. Will you go with me?"

"Of course! I mean, I was going anyway!"

"Uh, yeah, I know, but, I meant to go with me?"

"No yeah I know what you mean. But, technically, me going is like, me going with everyone. But of course Kendall!"

He smiled his goofy smile, it filled you with butterflies (euphemism for anxiety) that made you all warm inside. It filled you with such satisfaction to know that you had that affect on him. But of course you did, you are you and that's just what you do!

The following morning, you had your usual routine - you left the basement, elevator, your office, coffee, sign in, print horoscopes, looked out to the city, "I built this", lit your candle before Gerri told you to put it out, whatever. You made sure to look EXTRA cute today cause girl this was going to be a very important night. Kendall literally asked you out. This is no fucking joke. It's like the D-Day of this World War II thing y'all got going on if no one was dying.

After reading Logan his horoscopes, he asked to look at your nails.

"They're perfect, Y/N," he smiled. When he wasn't scary he was just a chill old man. "French. My favorite genre of nail."

"Of course, Logan! It is your birthday today after all! I actually have a gift for you. Do you mind if I give it to you now, I just can't wait," you said. It was true, you couldn't wait. You handed him an envelope before he could say yes.

He began to open it, taking out your gift - a sticker of bagpipes you got from Redbubble. You waited excitedly for his reaction like a weirdo.

"They're bagpipes! Since, you know, you're Scottish, so they're like naturally your favorite instrument! You can put it anywhere, it's waterproof!"

Logan looked up to you, a dead-serious face he only sported during his seemingly important meetings. A part of you didn't read this Logan expression well - you didn't know what he was about to say next...

"Y/N," he began in a serious, low tone, "this is the most thoughtful fucking gift I've ever received that none of these moronic imbeciles have ever gotten close to giving me. Better than anything my own fucking kids have given me. Thank you. I'll put it on the side of my helicopter."

Your wholesome moment was then ruined by an all too familiar annoying voice. It was Greg.

"The fuck do you want, Greg?" Logan boomed.

"Well, uh, happy birthday Uncle Log, first off. But anyway, uh," he struggled.

"Spit it out!"

"Well, uh, Tom's asking for Y/N. Like, summoning her down to ATN. We're uh actually short of an assistant today, you know, for the debate."

"Debate? Oh yeah, yeah, Y/N, go on."

As you were leaving, you heard the faint and muffled start of what you recognized as "Million Dollar Man" by Lana Del Rey come from Logan's office. You began to walk down the hallway down to ATN, a place you rarely ever found yourself going to. If there was anything worse than numbers, it was politics. It just honestly sounded like a whole lotta nothing to you. But you weren't just about to say no to Logan, especially today - that would be illegal. Greg continued talking about potential gifts for Logan, but you had a knack for drowning people out.

"Hey buddyyyyyyy," another all too familiar voice called. You turned to see Tom's Horton ass face catch up with you and Greg.

"What, Tom?" you asked.

"Well, I'm sure my assistant briefed you," he looked over to Greg, with a little gay twinkle in his eye, "but we do have a guest today for ATN. A little debate, you might say. A little clinking and clashing of fine weaponry, perhaps, shiny swords of red and blue -"

"- Don't you think that's like, embarrassing?" you asked. You three reached the newsroom, where one of the anchors was getting her makeup retouched but looking extremely annoyed as if she was going to bite the makeup artist's finger Abby Lee Miller style.

Tom seem insulted. "Why? What do you mean embarrassing, Y/N?"

"Well, like, lowkey," you said in a whisper as to not get bitten by the woman, Tom leaned in, "anyone from the outside can debate anyone in here and like, win. I don't think it's that hard."

Tom backed up. He took a moment, and looked to the anchor for the day's debate, then back to you. "Well, I take great offense to that, Y/N."

"Yeah, whatever. What do I know, though? Anyway what do I have to do what the fuck am I actually doing down here?"

"The guest should be arriving soon, through the back, where the shredded papers are thrown away. By the dumpster, you know, where you seemed to appear from like a fairy. As if Tinker Bell was a homeless fairy and a slut. Go on, go, escort him up," Tom turned, arms now crossed like a child and refused to talk to you anymore. That was just Tom, though. You shrugged it off and went towards the back.

Once you opened the door, you saw that fat ass SUV of an Escalade pull up and out came the guest. But it wasn't just any guest - no no it can't be. It's not just any ordinary guest, not just your regular Joe - oh no, oh no oh fuck fuck fuck - it's your ex Hasan! Fuck!

His 6'4'' ass stepped out in his signature blue suit - the same he always wore for debates that you ironed (and burned multiple holes through that you blamed on overly-grown moths) yourself - and you both caught one another's stare.

Let's just say - you were stunned. Like, no fucking way. There's no way. But there is a way and this was the way exactly. You were pretty much at a loss for words. All that confidence from "I built this" had seeped out of your body like body oil and it fucking REEKED. Like it was impossible for this to happen. But at the same time it wasn't? Cause he's literally a political commentator. Oh shit this is real.

He laughed in disbelief. You were both in awe. You stood there, blank and still like your ass fucking froze like you computer sometimes when you signed in because of how overloaded and backed up it was from those Sims 3 files. You looked high key stupid.

"Really?" he said as he walked towards you.

"Bro what the fuck," was all you could say.  

"Wow. So ATN, Y/N? Really. That's fucking low, dude. I never thought you were THAT familiar with the political climate of America, but I also didn't see you stooping down to work for literal Nazi sympathizers."

You turned and began walking back, not caring if he followed or not. You needed a moment to take it in. Okay. Okay....Okay cool now you took it in.

"Um, actually, Hasan, I work for Logan. And he's actually Scottish. How can a Scottish person be a Nazi?" you snapped, basking in your sudden femme fatale attitude, oh how you loved being a woman in the workplace!, "Anyway, mind your business just like I did yours."

"Fair enough," you two now stepped into the elevator. He leaned down to whisper, "Do you think Logan likes Zootopia just like you?"

The motherfucker was a rocket up your ass. Too bad he was still fine as fuck. But alas not all good things last forever...

You didn't give him the satisfaction of replying to him. You tried to make it seem like you were being the bigger, professional person, but in reality you had nothing to hit him back with. He was just too perfect honestly.

Now at the panel, Hasan took a seat by the anchor and the two began to fix themselves. They didn't speak one word to another - not even a hello. You cringed. This is awkward asf.

You hid behind the cameras in the corner, to yourself like a kid in timeout. Safe to say you were startled.

"Y/N, what is wrong with you?" Tom asked, now at your side.

You swallowed a pretty substantial wad of saliva, gulping pretty substantially. You said lowly, "Yeah. I am. That's my ex."

"I'm sorry, wait. Hasan Piker, the Twitch streamer, the little fingers dancing on a keyboard while his buttocks gets sores from sitting all day until time calls for his little occasional wee in his two million dollar home, whore-for-Bernie, communist masquerading as a socialist, Hasan Piker?" he seemed to enjoy this sudden news, relishing in its irony. You were not finding it as amusing as him. In fact, you started to see red at his apparent enjoyment. You felt that rosacea take over.

"Your wife cuck-holds you, Tom."

His face immediately fell. He walked away. It really did seem easy to make anyone in this fucking family insecure. Either that or it was another forte to add to your albeit short yet expansive list.

The moment they went live, you knew you didn't have that strength to stick around. It looks like your work was done. You ran out and felt tears well and stream down your face. Thank god you stole that Milk Hydro Grip Primer from Sephora, because this makeup was NOT coming off.

Everyone seemed to avoid you, and you liked it that way. There was nothing worse than this!

Oh god, everyone's gonna see me crying! Fuck! They're not gonna take me, a woman, seriously! you thought. You felt the early symptoms of a psychotic break linger. This was definitely not the time and place.

But there was no doubt about it - girl you were spiraling. Flashbacks that you thought your little brain worked to forget started to appear. You remembered the beyblade. You remembered his love for beyblades. You remembered being HIS beyblade...

You felt your breathing quicken. Your chest was tight. You knew you had to retreat somewhere - there was no stopping the rain after the lightning or whatever Lightning McQueen said.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You turn to see who grabbed your arm, ever so gently at that. Oh my god it's Kendall! He couldn't see you like this!

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh my god Kendall I can't no it's that I can't bro what even is that?!" you said through muffled mucus.

"Come here, let's get you out of the hallway," he pulled you into the women's bathroom and locked the door. You admired he didn't care for gender norms. He began to rub your shoulders in a soothing way trying to calm you down. There was something wrong with him being the one to console you, because typically you'd think it would be the other way around. But whatever another time.

"What's wrong, Y/N?"

You started to regulate your breathing. "Okay, so like," never mind you started hyperventilating again, "my ex, that Hasan guy. He's my ex! I just wasn't expecting him, you know?"

"Wow, okay," now he started to process the situation, "wow, he must've really fucking hurt you."

"Yeah, I have a permanent bump on my parietal lobe just to prove it!"

You then began to cry in his arms, he held you in that bathroom and you felt all your problems not go away exactly but for the moment it felt good. There was no way a MAN could fix your ass.

"Hey, listen," he had you face him, "fuck that guy. Okay? I can fucking, like, ruin his life for what he did. Why don't we, like, fucking bail? Okay? Let's go to lunch, we can fucking, I don't know, we can fucking eat açaí bowls or some shit. Whatever."

"Really? Like right now?"

"Yeah. I'm dead fucking serious."

"Oh my god Kendall you're like the best!"

A toilet then flushed. You both thought it best to bolt out of there before you came face to face with whoever was just minding their business to take a shit. No need to call HR here!

You both stepped into the JFK dream car, the chauffeur turned to ask Kendall where they were off to. You licked some of the fallen tears on your face. There was nothing that hit better than the salty brine of those tears on your weather-beaten face.

He turned to you, "What do you want to eat? It's up to you. Anything you want."

You turned to the window to think, watching the droplets beginning to slam at high speeds onto the glass. You then turned to him, feeling flirty and sensual all of a sudden, "I'd honestly really fuck up Oui yogurt -"

"Actually, buddy, can you drive us to Texas de Brazil?" Kendall said to the chauffeur. He nodded and began driving, occasionally going on the sidewalks to avoid that rush hour traffic. Evidently there was no fine that Kendall couldn't afford.

At the restaurant, it was literally just your regular Texas de Brazil. You personally weren't a fan, but you weren't going to tell Kendall no. Telling him no would send him into a spiral, an two spirals together are not good. You know what two people spiraling is? Yeah. Exactly that. It's two people spiraling.

Basically Texas de Brazil is where people go when they have too much money to spend on scraps of fucking meat. Like a vulture would absolutely go berserk. (Authors Note! If you've never been to Texas de Brazil, it's okay! It doesn't mean you're poor, it just means you're smart with your money!)

Kendall landed you two a sweet secluded spot directly in the middle of everything. Men with skewers stacked with meat were running away and offering it to every table. Frankly, it gave you anxiety like why are we running? The meat is not gonna go that cold fast like chill out. You're not getting paid enough for all that.

You and Kendall weren't able to speak too much as every time you tried to the men with skewers with unreadable faces were speed walking towards your table at full  force, one after the other after the other.

Mama's getting overwhelmed...

They kept coming at all angles, not giving you a moment to breathe. In your peripheral, you saw them coming at you like fucking crazy. You wondered when it was the best time to let Kendall know you didn't eat red meat. It wasn't for religious reasons exactly, but it was because it made it difficult for you to shit. And since clearing your intestines was something of a spiritual practice, it could arguably be for those religious reasons.

"Ribeye?"

"Pork?"

"Sirloin?"

It's getting worse...

"Chicken Breast Wrapped in Bacon?"

"Filet Mignon Wrapped in Bacon?"

"Bacon?"

Mama's getting stressed....

"Ox tail?"

"Brazilian Sausage?"

"Lamb Chops?"

Mama's gonna blow.....

"Parmesan-Crusted Pork Loin?"

"Braised Beef Rib -"

"ENOUGH!" you finally shouted, hands on the sides of your head covering your ears, shaking, "STOP! NO MEANS NO! I KEEP TELLING YOU NO!!!!!".

The restaurant fell silent.

You opened your eyes as they were shut tight like gorilla glue. You peeked through, everyone stared at you blankly - you weren't just in the center of the restaurant but now the center of their world...

You and Kendall ended up leaving directly after that. He was pretty quick to get out of there. Now carless, you both walked the streets of New York. It was nighttime already. Neither of you had spoken yet to break the silence.

"I'm sorry about that, back there," you said, faintly smiling in embarrassment, "I just get overstimmied easily."

"It's okay," he chuckled, "actually I - I found it kind of hot. You know, like, telling them off?"

You felt yourself blush. He was for real a man who grew up without a mother figure.

"So where do you wanna eat now?" you asked. Your fat ass was still hungry.

"How about," he stopped on the sidewalk and you faced him. He had that delusional look in his eye. "How about we eat in like, real fucking America?"

"What do you mean Kenny Ken?"

"Like, I'm talking, you know, fucking, oily fries, injected hormone burgers, fucking - disgusting Sprite? Right, like? Type 2 diabetes on a fucking tray?"

"It sounds like you're talking about McDonald's."

"Yeah, sure whatever. Like, how about Outback? Huh? The fuck is that?" he started to chuckle a little manically with his goofy smile, it made you happy, "or like, P.F. Cheng's?"

"Well, if you want real America, we should go to a buffet!" Oh how you loved buffets. There was no rules, you could eat and eat as much as you want until you were bloated and backed up for days.

"So what like a fucking, uh, Golden Corral?"

"Jesus no," you gagged. The fuck was wrong with this man? He really needs guidance and you didn't mind being that for him. "Good heavens, no. Let's just stick to McDonald's, okay? If we were going to a buffet, I'd take you to Sweet Tomatoes."

"Well, why not? Let's go."

"We can't, cause an annoying fucking bitch named 'Covid' took her away. It wasn't just the lives of people that were lost."

"'Covid'?" Kendall asked, "I don't think that happened in Succession universe."

"What's 'Succession'?"

"I don't know. I guess I made it up. So McDonald's, then? Let's go!" He suddenly grabbed your hand and yanked you as he started running, you nearly tripped and tore your ACL. The last time you did that you busted your ass on a city bike in Miami Beach.

You two made your way to the nearest McDonald's using the directions on your new iPhone 8 Plus. You ordered your food, and unlike Texas de Brazil, at your own fucking pace. This was the only red meat you could eat and it went clean through. That oil and grease works magic!

You both had sat in the corner of the restaurant and had been deep on conversation. The ambience of McDonald's was very homey and nostalgic for you. The random beeping in the background was the best.

You were on your round 3 already, not your fault the burgers were small and didn't fill you up. You're still a growing girlie. Your favorite part were those little ketchup packets. They were so cute and small and red. It was your favorite thing that was red next to a tampon when you could afford them. Anyway dipping those skinny soggy fries in it was just the best! It was definitely your favorite activity, next to trimming your nails with scissor's, and after putting Kendall on, he agreed. You rarely shared that secret combo with anyone, so Kendall now knowing it meant that he was worth to know about the ketchup and fry crossover.

"Okay, so how about this," you took a great chomp outta your fry, "who's your problematic fave?"

"Hmm I don't know," he said, "Maybe my dad. What about yours?"

"Great answer! I think," you thought, but you really didn't need to think cause you already knew who, "Nicki."

"Khrushchev?"

"No, that's Nikita! Very close, though. I'm talking about Minaj. You know, Lewinsky. The Barbz. I don't blame you I get them confused too."

"I actually, uh, I actually really fucking like Nicki. No one else knows, but my favorite song from hers is Only, with her, Drake and Lil Wayne," he said as he munched on his own fries. It filled you with such joy to know he didn't credit the woman-beater in that sentence.

"Same! I love that song!"

"My favorite part is when Drake says, 'but I'm still staring at the titties though!'" he smiled after delivering the line. Had this been a frat bro, you would've (TW//purging) tried to voluntarily throw up your entire meal at his face because what the actual fuck was that. Your toes curled at the ick. But since it's Kendall, he always got a pass. He could kill a teenager and it'd be okay!

"Okay, what about your favorite song of ALL time?"

"Rich Girl by Gwen," he said, a little too quick. "But keep that between us, please. I put the Private Session option on my Spotify when I listen to it. It just empowers me before I make deals, you know? I just, like, blast her whole fucking discography in my huge bulky headphones. The JBL ones? Yeah, those. Her and Fergie. When I need a good like, fucking cry, I put Big Girls Don't Cry. It helps, my therapist says it's, like, a good way to let all the shit out, you know?"

"You know what you are Kendall?" you said, low but extremely flirtatious, "you're kinda cunt. Like, cunty. Like, you're Princess Diana was reincarnated." You bit your tongue like a white mom - now was a perfect time for it.

Kendall smiled softly but you knew he wanted to smile BIG. If he had rosacea like you he'd be beet fucking red. You loved seeing this loser flustered. "Well, Y/N, no. You're like, fucking my princess."

Your phone buzzed. It was a notification from Twitter. You clicked to open it and the link took you to a highlight from the debate with Hasan. It began playing loud, and thanks to Elon, the app began glitching and didn't allow you to get out of it.

"- and everything I do and say for my viewers is for the betterment of America." Hasan said.

"Well, didn't you wish for 9/11 to happen again?" said the anchor.

"Hey," Kendall placed his hand over your phone. You felt those tears well up again. "Turn it off, it's not worth it, okay? Hey, let's like - do you wanna, like, fucking hotbox or something?"

You shut your phone off. "Of course, Kendall. I'd love to hotbox with you. Let's go!"

You two left the McDonald's and Kendall was able to call his chauffeur. He told him that he needed to stand outside and wait for you and him to finish the hotboxing session in the car. The chauffeur simply said 'okay' and sat on a bench while the SUV was in park on the side of the busy New Yorkan road.

You and Kendall sat in the front seat, he pulled out his pen (the weed one) and began to take big ass, very long hits. He passed it over to you and you did the same, the smoke filling up the car and making it reek.

"So when are we going to hotbox?" you asked, voice barely hanging on from it's effects.

"Well, uh, what do you mean? We're hotboxing right now?"

You were confused. "I mean, usually when I hotbox it gets pretty smelly. Stinky maybe." He still didn't seem to understand what you were saying. He looked concerned as his eyes were swollen red and he honestly probably forgot who you were for a second.

"Huh?"

"My farts? I've been told it gives the same high. For the brief period I was homeless, before my girl Willa picked me off the streets, I got paid to hotbox cars. There's no real way of escaping it now. It's gonna come. Usually I don't eat red meat, so when I do I get pretty gassy."

He continued to look at you blankly. You were getting kinda uncomfortable for a minute as you were taking your own hits.

"Do you wanna go to the back?" he finally said, immediately regretting it. "Sorry for being, uh forward as fuck. But, like, I like walking when I'm high, I actually like going to the beach or any body of water when I'm fucked up, but -"

You put your finger to his lips, a little harder than either of you anticipated. "It's okay Kendall, you don't have to explain. Let's hit that back." You began to climb over to the backseat, accidentally flashing New York you pantiless bottom and kneeing Kendall in the face. You forgot you were wearing a business-themed skirt cause it's work appropriate, but your laced Victoria's Secret thong that you stole during your homeless era.

He climbed after you. You two sat and stared at one another for several moments, having temporary amnesia as you forgot why you went to the back in the first place.

"Y/N, can you be, like, my fucking assistant? I need help, uh, assisting."

"Oh my god, yes Kendall! That's like, my forte!" You jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard leather seats and you feel his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your business skirt clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a fucking, uh, labia," he says.

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Manhattan Financial District in. This is it. No Excel spreadsheet, no Texas de Brazil waiters, no Elf on the Shelf, no annoying Jordan Belfort sympathizers/incels, nothing - just you and Kendall.

Thank god for illegally tinted windows!

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

[astarab1aze]

🎼 Loux & Saint.

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 [ 🎼 ] + 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (𝟑-𝟓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒) 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂.

oh! frenchy - mosie

grind with me - pretty ricky

let me love you - mario

femme fatale - coyote kid

[raparopa]

Omgg could you write about nikolai lanstov and how he has known reader his whole life and they are together but not oficially and then alina comes and yk what happens and reader thought that they could handle it because it's a political marriage but then they end things and then nikolai one night can't take it anymore and so he goes to her room and begs her, quite literally on his knees to get back together, and maybe end it with some smut or fluff however you feel like doing but I just need him begging 😭

a/n: Crap! I really liked the idea of your request, so I thought about it and decided to make some changes. First, I thought about it and decided that I would most likely make a mini-series (big story) of several parts. Secondly, I realized that it is easier for me to fulfill your request with an !Original Character! not marked "reader" or "Y/N" And thirdly, of course, I had to change some details of the canon in order to somehow structurally introduce the hero into the story. Hope you enjoy what I do! let me know if you like it?(!)

warnings: Language, Squaller!OC (idk)

pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x OC!Dasha Romanov

summary: There is clearly an understatement between Nikolai and his childhood friend. But who knew that things could get even worse when the sun shines on the horizon?

gold and silver

prologue.

I knew Nikolai, without exaggeration, all my conscious life. We met when we were just children, when I was brought to serve in the palace (sensible squaller are needed everywhere, especially when the queen wants the sun on a cloudy day). He was the most restless boy I have ever seen in my whole life: he caused trouble for his whole family, nannies and tutors, but he was a fun guy, with an adventurous spirit and a good heart. Therefore, the fact that we found a common language did not take long. We would run away from classes together, I would show him tricks with the wind and clouds, and he would teach me how to shoot and even show me a couple of tricks so that I could protect myself with more than just my abilities.

And then the service began. His and mine. Nikolai and Dominic signed up for the First Army, while I was accepted into the Second Army, where my hard and fun life began. At first, Nikolai and I kept in touch, tried to keep in touch, but time passed, everything changed, we grew up and over the course of our destinies we changed a lot. Our communication slowly faded away. Of course, I heard rumors about what happened to the prince, and I'm sure he also heard rumors about me. I have long lost the habit of having Lantsov around, but still my heart ached every time I heard the news about him.

But in one moment everything changed. More time passed when Nikolai himself found me. True, now he was no longer Nikolai, but asked everyone to call himself Sturmhond. He was a privateer, with his own ship and crew, and kindly invited me to join the crew of the "Hummingbird".

How long did I think? Yes. It would be strange to immediately agree to such an adventurous proposal from someone whom I had not seen for several years. But Saints!

No matter how many years, centuries, centuries have passed; no matter what happens to me, I will always continue to adore Nikolai.

He still managed to convince me to join his crew. And I climbed the "Hummingbird", starting a new page in my life, but again next to Nikolai.

[metatronhateblog]

Duck Duck what the Fuck pt. 2, Featuring Not to Be a Bearer of News

Okay in my previous post [link here] we talked about the appearance of ducks and ducks with accordions in the opening sequence. Now I didn't really have too much to say except fucking weird, right? But now I'm going to start digging around in this a bit more.

Welcome back to what is the big deal with ducks.

To start off, ducks are verbally mentioned in this show... 4 times. (I'm pretty sure it's 4 but it's highly possible I'm missing something.)

Our first case is in Season 1 episode 1. At approximately 26:45 we see a transition to the park where Crowley and Aziraphale are having a meeting. The quote here is stated by none other than our narrator God. She states...

"Everyone knows the best place for a clandestine meeting in London is and always has been Saint James' Park. They say the ducks are so used to being fed by secret agents that they've developed Pavlovian reactions to them. The Russian cultural attaché's black bread is particularly sought after by the more discerning duck. Crowley and Aziraphale have been meeting here for quite some time."

This quote has always been...a little sus to me. Now if you aren't entirely sure what Pavlovian effect is, I direct you to a situation that you quite possibly experience yourself. Have you ever heard the sound of an alarm clock, or the sound you set your own alarm clock as playing outside of a setting that isn't meant to wake you up? Have you had this knee jerk reaction where you feel yourself tense and need the sound to stop and maybe even feel a little bit more awake because of it? No? If not you are beyond lucky.

A Pavlovian reaction is a conditioned response to something, in my known knowledge I think it's generally accompanied by a sound (apologies for explaining this so poorly, if anyone wants to hop in the comments and explain better I will love you so much.) For example, some farmers ring a bell or something to let their cows know it's time to eat. The cows then associate that noise with food and will probably expect to be fed upon any point of hearing that bell.

So in this case...ducks hear the whisperings of secret agents and know that it means they get fed. The more recognizable the noise, the better the bread. Hence the line that the more discerning ducks go towards the Russian cultural attaché. Kinda fascinating right? And also a weird way to describe the ducks...

Moving on the second time ducks are mentioned is by Crowley in season 1 episode 2. He makes a comment in regards to suspicions about him saying something along the lines of suspicions slide off him 'like water slides off of....what does water slide off of?" And then later on at some random point (pretty sure it's in the same episode) yells 'DUCKS! That's what water slides off of.' (I'm paraphrasing here because this isn't a quote I needed to look up cause I knew it in my soul.)

Now the phrase 'Like water slides off a duck's back' generally tends to mean that someone is unaffected by something. Whatever it is, they are unperturbed. Okay...another interesting way to look at ducks.

Our third quote is in season 1 episode 3. Crowley once again speaks to us about ducks when he's talking to Aziraphale about ✨insurance.✨ No not that kind of insurance I'm talking about the Holy Water. When Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the park in their little top hats in 1862 the conversation goes something like this...

Crowley - "If it all goes wrong, I want insurance."

Aziraphale - "What?"

Crowley, handing Aziraphale a piece of paper - "I wrote it down. Walls have ears. Well ,not walls. Trees have ears. Ducks have ears. Do ducks have ears? Must do. That's how they hear other ducks."

That's...and interesting little throw away line right there that Aziraphale ignores to tell him no. And maybe it is a little throw away line...or maybe we're meant to pay attention to it. Why else would they continue talking about something if they don't want to emphasize it. Twice is a coincidence but threes a pattern.

Which leads me to our fourth quote (continuing our pattern) being from Season 2 this time in which Crowley (I'm slowly seeing a pattern of how it's almost always Crowley talking about ducks, and who's the one who tells Aziraphale when they're being watched???) yells at some agents not to feed the ducks bread. Shax then asks him what you're supposed to feed ducks, and once again it isn't until later on in the conversation that Crowley says 'Peas. You give ducks peas.'

Feeding ducks bread is not good. But I'm not sure there's any other little meaning in here.

Now that we've got that out of the way. I want to mention The Other times ducks are mentioned, and to me it only seems to get weirder.

The first appearance of a mention of ducks in season 2...is the first time we meet Mr. Brown (of Brown's world of carpets.)

In our second episode, Crowley and Aziraphale have a meeting at the PuB in which we meet Mr. Brown (of Brown's world of carpets) who corners Aziraphale about holding the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association monthly? meeting. Buuuuuuut. We actually first see him BEFORE he comes over to Aziraphale. (Don't even get me started on the weird shit in the PuB)

Even here we can see he's got a something in his arm, which we quickly find out is a newspaper.

But notice how....whatever angle we're seeing him from, we can see the front of his newspaper? It's like a big flashing sign that says 'HEY LOOK AT ME!'

We even see him right here, moving towards Aziraphale while Crowley orders drinks. And what do we see? The front of the newspaper.

And he

spends

every

moment

showing us that newspaper.

And even better, tell me why it appears that Aziraphale is looking at the paper and not him?

And I know this shot is blurry but even as he leaves the PuB, he's still holding that newspaper towards the camera.

And then he's literally holding it in front of his face

Even when we see him days later!

So for starters. Why...why does he have the same newspaper over a span of multiple days. And more importantly. Why on Earth does it say 'Nebraskan Woman Taught Duck to Play Accordion.'

Now you might say it's dumb and unimportant. And normally I'd agree...if he wasn't flashing that newspaper around like a billboard.

It leads me to believe it's really important, but why I don't know. @lady-of-the-puddle and I are still agonizing over ducks and have yet to really figure out what significance there might be.

The only thought I have had....which seems so far-fetched I'm embarrassed to say it almost, is who, off the top of your head is the one person you can think of that would have the power to teach a duck to play an accordion considering they don't have posable thumbs....or hands for that matter?

If you said God then I feel a little less ridiculous...but also why would God teach a duck to play accordion. So not having anything to back that up or anything to further explore it with....But I feel like that might be thinking of the duck thing from the wrong angle since our most common discussion point about ducks seems to be them hearing things and all around being suspicious little feathered friends.

I have to say I am quite clueless on the matters of ducks but I feel they have to be important....

And don't get me started on newspapers...

[accidentalbi]

pinterest quotes that make me feel an indescribable itch in my brain

" Weird hill to die on, but at least you're dead. "

" In a fight, they're lethal. Around each other, they melt. "

" Two broken souls scarred with the wounds from their demons, playing a dangerous game of trust and love. "

" Have you ever seen the hell in someone's eyes and loved it anyway? "

" Breathe through the fear and walk through the fire. "

" I sat and sat. Something was wrong inside me. I felt it inside my stomach and I didn't know what to do. So I laid down on the floor. "

" I aim to be lionhearted, but my hands still shake and my voice isn't quite loud enough. "

" Every angel is terrifying. "

" I'm extremely devout, but nobody can figure out what I'm worshipping. "

" Evolution was a mistake. I want fangs. "

" The eighth deadly sin is actually being mean to me, but they keep that one a secret. "

" My house is haunted because I live here. "

" She has angel eyes, the devil's grin, and tattered wings. "

" I don't study, I consult the lore. "

" If I cannot bend Heaven, I will raise Hell. "

" Your movements are so cryptic and wraith-like. You've got, like, a precise and deadly energy. You seem unkillable. "

" The horrors may be beyond your comprehension, but I comprehend them perfectly. "

" This man can't be fixed. I can fuck him, though. Maybe that will calm him down. "

" Finally the demon is down and looking peaceful. "

" I'll fuck you eventually, relax. Let me be funny first. "

" I want him broken. I want him resentful and tired. I want him uncontrollable with anger and vengeance. I want him irreversibly unhinged. "

" Oldest daughters are some of the toughest men you'll ever meet. "

" Throw me to the wolves and I'll come back leading the pack. "

" I know she is unhinged, responsible for multiple atrocities, and a danger to herself and others. But have you ever considered that she is tiny, and sad, and I love her? "

" Hold the fuck up. I'm the fuck up. Hold me. "

" I wasn't born to be soft and quiet. I was born to make the world shake at my fingertips. "

" You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature. "

" Is this what I get for loving a god? "

" You're a little tragedy, aren't you? "

" You and I both know this ends in blood. "

" They made you into a weapon and told you to find peace. "

" Nobody smart plays fair. "

" Anything you can do, I can do bleeding. "

" You want battle? I'll give you war. "

" I saw magic in his eyes. Dirty, dark, beautiful magic. "

" You're a weapon, and weapons don't weep. "

" I fear no evil. The shadow is mine, and so is the valley. "

" What doesn't kill me better run. "

" I might be a sinner and I might be a saint. "

" Not a god's chosen, but a god's cursed. "

" Sir, that's my emotional support knife collection. "

" What, pray tell, the fuck. "

" We can simultaneously be human and monster. Both of those possibilities are in all of us. "

" Looking half a corpse and half a god. "

" Be the reason why the lights flicker when you enter a room. "

" I don't take orders. I barely take suggestions. "

" The question isn't who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me. "

" I like storms. They let me know that even the sky screams sometimes. "

" Are you praying again? How raw are your knees? How often will you repent? "

" The hands that cradled your face and tilted it upwards to kiss your forehead are soaked in unfathomable quantities of blood. "

" Loyal to few, ruled by none. "

" If this is to end in fire, then we will all burn together. "

" Am I a boy? Am I a girl? It doesn't matter. I'm going to burn your house down. "

" I hate when people ask me what sign I am. Bitch, I'm a sign from god, start running. "

" His grin was always halfway a smile and halfway a threat. "

" The fastest way to a man's heart is by tearing a hole through his ribcage. "

" Crooked grins, sly hands, and one dangerous voice. "

" True evil is, above all things, seductive. "

" Bite the vampire first to establish dominance. "

" My immense self-hatred vs my delusional god complex. "

" I'm not in danger. I'm the danger. "

" Bare those teeth and snarl, baby. "

" This howl… isn't from a dog. "

" You want to play dirty? Fine. Let's play dirty. "

" Your hands are scarred from murder and yet I trust them completely. "

" You got a taste for blood when you were licking your own wounds. "

" Rome wasn't built in a day. But it burned in one. "

" I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important. "

" How many centuries deep is your wound? "

" Just like the moon, half of my heart will always love the dark. "

" I don't think you're truly mean. You have sad eyes. "

" It is not Hell if you like the way it burns. "

" The sun watches what I do, but the moon knows all my secrets. "

" Yes, it's dangerous. That's why it's fun. "

" Fuck therapy, I'm becoming a knight. "

" Only a monster can deal with another monster. "

" Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word. "

" I could set this world on fire and call it rain. "

" I swing both ways. Violently. With a bat. Come get some, motherfuckers. "

" I suck at apologies, so unfuck you… or whatever. "

" Ah, there he is. That motherfucker. "

" I love you is a death sentence in my mouth. "

" It scares me sometimes, the emptiness I see in my eyes. "

" You walk a fine line between beautifully macabre and uncharacteristically psychotic. "

" He smelled of strawberries and depression. "

" Let's cause a little trouble. "

" Keep your head high and your middle finger higher. "

" Get in, loser, we're living past the end of our myth. "

" We sin as devils, we love as angels. "

" Like it's my fault my love language is acts of service and all I know how to do is kill. "

" I have learned that pleasing everyone is impossible, but pissing everyone off is easy and funny as hell. "

" Liking angels in an atheist kinda way. They're just pigeons to me. "

" Why the fuck am I not a slightly ominous forest entity that you only see out of the corner of your eye on a foggy day? "

" Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime. "

" Cute first date ideas -- hand to hand combat. "

" Third base is me telling you about my father. "

" Honey, I… bought us matching swords. "

" Family isn't who you're born with. It's who you die for. "

" RIP to everyone killed by the gods for their hubris, but I'm different. And better. Maybe even better than the gods. "

" I'm not really a househusband or a housewife, I'm more like a house beast. I'm in your walls, causing mysteries and stealing your things. "

[reiynm]

REIYN‼️

REIYN

Reiyn- listen—

Listen to me

If you ever have the chance or patience, whenever you're bored and/or don't feel like doing much or have anything in the way

You should make a SFW Alphabet for your yandere. (And only if you're comfortable, an NSFW one too)

Pls-

I'm on my hands and knees here...

The world DEMANDS IT /j (no pressure just a suggestion ❤️❤️❤️)

Okay! Okay!! OKAY!! 😂

Just the sfw version for now tho, I'll tag you if I do a NSFW one ;D

Probably broken english btw I had to pass my english dictionary to my roommate and I don't know when I will get it again urg ;w;

SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) He's not particularly affectionate 🤔 But with you… He'd always be on you, if you'd let him!

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Hard to say… Before he met you, he wouldn't let anyone near him, let alone cuddle him. So I would say he likes it but only with you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) He will never break up with you and he will never let you go.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) Your hands and your forehead, but he just likes to smooch you (no matter where). And he loves to bite your bottom lip before kissing (if you're comfortable enough with him)

i = i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?) Don't say it often but only because for him it's just obvious. He wouldn't go to so much trouble if he didn't love you xD Bro literally kidnapped you after all.

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?) Very jealous, and reacts to it very VERY badly. Can get nervous if you show a little too much attention to anyone. Situations where he could become jealous are to be avoided at all costs. He always has an eye on you, especially on the "roommate" route. If someone gets a little too close to you, even in a friendly way, you can be sure that this person will disappear the very same day (and no need to ask questions, he'll deny everything…)

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves?) Bwaha good luck with that. If you want to know stuff about his past or his life, you'll have to spy on him, because he'll never tell you anything. Never.[SPOILER] The only thing you know for sure is that he's not a bodyguard. It's an excuse he uses to not scare you.

p = patience (how easily angered are they?) He has the patience of a Saint. Seriously, even after all the times you try to escape xD The only thing that makes him freak out or lose his patience is attacking him and/or managing to hurt him (Y/N will learn it the hard way)

z = zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?) Sleep with one eye open. If you try to do anything against him while he's sleeping, it won't work. He always shamelessly invites himself into your bed (no matter the path you choose) and wants to have Y/N against him when he sleeps.

P.S: I love @pica-bunny heacanon about his body odor. So now he smells like pine trees :D

[jerswayman]

dearly departed: a swaymark playlist

though we're tethered to the story we must tell, when i saw you, well, i knew we'd tell it well

with a whisper, we will tame the vicious seas, like a feather, bringing kingdoms to their knees

home is where we stay all night, no roof above our starry sky, i'd lie here 'til the day i die, and our time together's flown

come ease my slumber, we'll watch the sky explode

i'd be appalled if i saw you, ever try to be a saint, i wouldn't fall for someone i thought couldn't misbehave

you wrapped your fingers around my neck, and you pulled me into your desperate breath, the way you kissed me hot and fast, i knew it'd be the last

and if you have to go, well, always know that you shine brighter than anyone

i hope you think of me in hallways

the only time i got to praying for a red light, was when i saw your destination as a deadline / we ain't angry at you love, you're the greatest thing we've lost

and i'll dream each night of some version of you, that i might not have, but i did not lose, now you're tyre tracks and one pair of shoes, and i'm split in half but that'll have to do

you were a work of art, that's the hardest part

it was the sweetness of your skin, it was the hope of all we might have been

you and i both know that the house is haunted, and you and i both know that the ghost is me

oh please, come out and haunt me

to spiral out, to try and float, to see a friend, to see a ghost / your life, your dreams, your mind, your needs, and my needs

tried to turn the page, but our story wasn't stopping

can you make us stay forever?

we'll be okay, we'll be okay

– spotify link to playlist

[voodoodaaddy]

Peter chuckled nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear as he rested his head on Alastor’s belly, scratching the thick fur gently. “Are you awake my Stag? I can’t stay long. But I wanted to give you something.”

The nude Saint reached to the side of the bed and when he came up again, he held out a basket, his hands trembling slightly. For all his divine confidence when managing Heaven’s gates, being vulnerable in front of Alastor always made him feel oddly human.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, his voice softer now, “I didn’t know what to get you. I’m sorry I can’t be here for Christmas, but I hope you’ll enjoy it.” The scents of savory Heaven-blessed meats and tantalizing sauces soon reached Alastor’s nose. Inside, the crackling firelight reflected off a crimson pocket watch. Inside would reveal an intricate design of golden gears and tiny etched stars, along with a small engraving inside the lid: For every second apart, my love grows stronger.

Peter shifted awkwardly as he found Alastor’s discarded red jacket and put it on to cover himself before clasping his hands in front of him. “I hope you like it, I just… wanted you to have something to remember me by when I can’t be here. Happy holidays Alastor.”

Alastor stretched his limb until there’s a small ‘pop’, while Peter went to move away. He’s stil half asleep, having slept in later then usual, but that’s what normally happens when the angel stays the night. The sinner rubbed the sleep out of his eyes just in time to see the saint come back with a basket in his hold. Immediately he noticed how nervous he is; it’s rare to see him like that. Sitting up he carefully took the basket, peering inside he took the pocket watch. At first Alastor’s expression in unreadable,he stares down at the small engraved watch, completely speechless. He held it like something precious---perhaps it is---running his thumb along the metal and etched words.

The Radio Demon lifts his head up, eyes soft despite his fixated menacing smile. “This is….lovely Peter.” His voice is completely normal, the facade of his radio static gone. “I don’t know what to say. No one has ever given me anything so thoughtful before. I promise I’ll take very good care of it. Every time I open it, I’ll think of you.” On that thought, Alastor starts to get up. “I’m afraid I’m rather terrible at gifts. I planned in my head to do this a certain way, but I can’t wait…”

He carefully placed the watch back into the basket and set it aside before he stood up and threw on a robe. He held a small blue velvet box as he approached Saint Peter. “You already know that we have angelic weapons scattered about the city. The material is quite interesting, beautiful. It can be crafted into almost anything. Even this...”

Alastor swallows while getting down on one knee and opened the box to reveal an almost glowing, ethereal, ring band. Carved into it is an intricate design of angelic wings and stars around it. “Peter, I could talk endlessly how much I adore you.” He began; his eyes fixated on the small angel. “We are from different worlds, but somehow, somehow, we managed to overcome all that and make it work. You see good in me, and though I'm not sure if it's there, I appreciate it no less. You have been my little guiding light in this hellscape. Even if I do not care for redemption, I care for you. I love you and I want you to be mine. Will you marry me?”

@toranoya